Rockin' the Paradise
by Laelyn24
Summary: A collection of one-shots that continue the story of Claire 'Tug' Connolly; Skittery is the featured newsy. Sequel to 'Beneath It All.'
1. All Dolled Up

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Newsies. Also, this was inspired by a scene from Young Riders, which I do not own either. So anything that seems familiar, yeah, that wasn't me._

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**+All Dolled Up+**

"Excuse me, dear, can I help ya?" wheezed Kloppman as Tug walked through the door. "Are ya lost?"

Shaking her head, Tug chuckled. "No. I've been in a few times before."

"My dear, lots of girls come 'round here. I can't keep track of all of 'em, but you I think I'd remember," he said with a nod of certainty. "What's yer name?"

Tug grinned, contemplating on which name to give him. Finally, she settled on one. "Claire."

"Which one of the boys should I fetch for ya, Miss Claire?" the old man asked, eyeing her up carefully.

Tug raised an eyebrow, wondering if this was typical protocol whenever a girl came looking for one of the boys; it was rather amusing. "I'm actually here to see all of 'em. Would it be alright if I went up?" She pointed toward the stairs with a polite smile.

Kloppman frowned. "All of 'em, ya say?"

Nodding, Tug reassured him that she meant what she said. "Yes, all of 'em. They knows I'm comin'."

"Don't go no where," he said, pointing a finger at her.

Tug nodded her compliance as she watched the old man tromp up the stairs. Taking in a deep breath, she let her eyes wander around the reception area as she awaited his return. The nervousness, she had managed to suppress on the trip over here, had reappeared. None of the boys told her that she was going to be interrogated at the door. It was delaying what she hoped to get over quickly.

This would be the first time any of the boys, aside from Skittery and Mush, have seen in her truest form--dressed completely as a girl. Sure, they knew that she was a girl, but just knowing wasn't enough. For the past week they had been pestering her about seeing her 'all dolled up', but Tug refused; she wasn't going to put on her best outfit simply to parade in front of the newsboys. She was waiting for something to come along that would offer her a reason to get dressed up...

And a night at Irving Hall was just the reason she was looking for. Medda was hosting one of her parties, which was occasion enough to get dolled up. It was Tug's every intention to make the most of this opportunity, since even Skittery had never actually seen her at her fanciest.

Getting herself all made up had proved to be a tricky task, as her mother still had no idea that she was still working as a newsie. It took a lot of convincing to get permission to attend the event. Tug didn't exactly lie, but she definitely had to improve the truth to benefit her needs. After assuring her mother that she would be accompanied by a few girl friends and that she would not leave the theatre alone, Mrs. Connolly gave in and allowed her to go. She was glad to see that her daughter was making friends with other girls and looking to have a little fun.

It had taken Tug over an hour to get ready; she bathed, fixed her hair into the most flattering style she could manage, and even applied a little make-up--nothing overdone, of course. The dress she had chosen was by far the best one she owned. It was a light blue color with a trim of white and fit her figured perfectly.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Tug could not help but smile. What she saw was such a drastic change from her everyday appearance that she could help but think about how the boys would react when they saw her. Even her short, pixie-ish hair could not dampen her spirits; in fact the style had grown on her and had, in a way, become a symbol of her present life.

Tug looked up, as Kloppman came tromping back down the stairs. He took up his position behind the desk before speaking. "Well, my dear, proceed at yer own risk."

"Thank you," Tug said with snort as she started slowly up the staircase.

Nearing the top of the stairs, she could hear the buzz of familiar voices; her heart started to beat faster as she approached the door. She rapped smartly on the wooden door frame and announced her presence,

"Everyone decent? I'm coming in!"

Several voice inside the room shouted 'yes', followed by a whole lot of laughter. And when she did not enter right away the laughter began to fade as they wondered what was keeping her.

Drawing in a deep breath of confidence to settle her jumping nerves, Tug shouted, "First one to laugh gets a punch in the nose."

A wave of laughter sounded once more and Tug poked just her head into the room. She was met by dozens of faces peering anxiously toward the doors, waiting for her entrance. Tug felt her cheeks flush as she stepped into the bunk room. The laughter instantly died as she took a few timid steps further in.

The expressions on their faces were priceless: wide eyes, slack jaws, and uncontrollable blinking had struck every one of them dumb. If it was possible for her cheeks to redden any further, they did. She nervously chewed her lip, waiting for some sort of reaction. The corners of her mouth twitched as her gaze found Skittery. He had a small absentminded smile sprawled across his face, gaping at her.

She shifted uncomfortably under all the silent gazes, waiting for someone to say something--anything. After a few more excruciatingly long seconds, Skittery pulled himself together enough to break the silence.

"Stop gawking," he demanded, cuffing the person nearest to him around the back of the head.

An unsuspecting Blink yelled out in surprise, which snapped everyone from their state of shock. They all started talking at once, closing in around her for a better look.

"Wow, Tug, ya look real pretty," Tumbler said, still looking at her with his wide eyes.

"Yeah, Tug. Who'da thought ya clean up so nice," Mush said with a jesting smile.

"I feel like we should be callin' ya Claire, 'cause ya don't look the Tug I know," Bumlets added.

Tug grinned, appreciative of all their compliments; glad to know that she wasn't completely repulsive. "I'm still Tug. It would be weird if you's guys started callin' me Claire."

"Hey Skitts," Specs said loudly, walking over and clapping his friend on the back. "Ya better get her outta here while ya still can."

"Skittery?" Racetrack scoffed, a broad grin shot directly at Skittery. "Skittery who?" He threw his arm around Tug's shoulder and winked. "Come on, sweetheart. What d'ya say? You. Me. A stroll through Central Park?"

Tug chuckled as she watched Skittery's expression fall. He advanced quickly on Racetrack, who was trying to guide Tug toward the door.

"Yer funny, ya know that Race?" Skittery scowled, pushing the snickering newsie aside. "Real funny."

Tug rolled her eyes and chuckled when Skittery grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the hallway and away from the attention. Turning back, she gave them a cheery wave.

"See ya fellas later."

Once out on the street; certain that they were far away from the prying eyes of the other newsies, Skittery slowed his pace. He had been looking at her out of the corner of his eye since they had left the lodging house.

"You really do look nice," he said awkwardly, stopping completely under a street light. It felt as though everything he wanted to say to her had already been said by someone else. He grinned timidly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, ya look so different." He swallowed quickly. "A good different. I mean--er--it's just, I dunno. I didn't expect--well--I thought ya were--before, but I had no idea -"

"Skittery," Tug said with a smile, cutting off his rambling. He instantly clamped his mouth shut, looking embarrassed. She quirked a brow, amused by his inability to for a coherent thought on the matter. "Are ya tryin' to say I look pretty?"

He sighed; his cheeks flushed, but he smiled. "Yeah, Tug, ya look real pretty tonight."

"Thanks. Now come on, let's get to Medda's," Tug replied, shaking her head with a grin. She took his hand and together they made their way toward Irving Hall.

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_A/N: Your reviews are very much appreciated! Thanks!_


	2. Ain't No Mistake

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_Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or anything that is familiar to you. I'll claim Tug as my own, and I guess Angela, but I really don't want her so much._

_The character of Tag Carolucci belongs to AdrenalineRush16 and is included in the story as my birthday gift to her! Happy Birthday, Adren! Enjoy!_

_Also, this is dedicated to Rambles, who mentioned in her last review of Beneath It All, that she was curious as to what happens when Angela finds out about Tug and Skittery. Well, here it is..._

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**+Ain't No Mistake+**

Irving Hall, the old vaudeville theatre, was packed with bodies, which was typical when Medda hosted a party following her dazzling performance. There was live music, refreshments, and of course, dancing. It was a great social affair, especially for the city's younger generation; kids from all over the city went to enjoy an evening filled with entertainment and good, old fashion fun.

Tug excused herself from the table, nearly about to burst, and slowly picked her way through the sea of people. It did not help that she had to go all the way across the auditorium because the only bathrooms on the first floor were located there. The bumps and jostles she received along were not helpful to her situation; it only made it more urgent.

Relieved to be free from the crowd, Tug threw herself through the curtained archway. This particular corridor was, by no means, completely barren; it was sprinkled with small groups of people and a few intertwined couples. Not really there to have a look around, Tug walked briskly down the hallway, pushing open the door to the ladies' room. She chuckled to herself, remembering the last time she had stepped into this particular bathroom; she and a few friends had to make an escape through the window, after the rally had been raided by the police.

Thankful that there was no need for a window escape tonight, she darted into the nearest stall. Having done her business, she was just double checking that her outfit was in proper order when the bathroom door shot open with a loud bang. It was followed promptly by a loud, irate conversation. Naturally, Tug could not help listening; it was unavoidable in this situation, due to the volume of their voices.

"Ugh," groaned one of the girls. "Did ya see that girl he's with? She ain't even pretty! There's gotta be some mistake."

"I know. Yer much prettier," replied a second voice, attempting to comfort her friend. She suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. "I mean, did ya see her hair? Why would any girl want to look like that--like such a boy."

"She is rather boyish, isn't she?"

Inside the stall, Tug froze; her eyes grew steadily wider as the words hit her ears. She hardly dared to believe that they were talking about her--but then again, who else could it be? Slowly and taking care to be as quiet as possible, Tug leaned forward so that she could peer through the gap between the door and the wall.

It only took a quick glance at the two girls, primping themselves in front of the mirror, and Tug had no doubt in her mind that she was the 'boyish' girl that they spoke of. Instinctively, her fists balled up at her sides while she continued to eavesdrop on the conversation, feeling the anger and hurt boil up inside her.

"Honestly, I don't know how Skittery could choose something like _that_ over me! It just doesn't make sense, Lara."

"Don't worry, Ang. He'll come to his senses sooner or later; they always do."

Tug sent a fiery glare at the thin bit of wood that separated her from Angela and her friend. Tears prickled at the backs of eyes as she took in every word. She had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself, but she was not sure how much longer she could hold out.

"It looks like I'm gonna have to make sure that it's sooner rather than later," Angela replied with an arrogant sniff. "I'll show him exactly what he's missin'. Besides, I ain't gonna be replaced by a girl like that!"

"You sure ain't," her friend encouraged as they exited from the bathroom.

It was a good thing that they had left in that moment, because Tug could have torn that door clear off it's hinges with the amount of anger that was tearing through her body. She slumped against the wall, hot tears streaming silently down her face as she sobbed into her knees. Unknowingly, Angela had dug straight into Tug's self-conscious, pinpointing exactly what Tug worried most about...

It had taken some time for her to get comfortable with her appearance, after having traded her traditional long locks for a short, cropped style so that she could pass for a newsboy. She no longer needed to pass as a newsboy--her secret was out--but it seemed her hair did not want to grow back fast enough. Everyone in her life didn't seem to care that she had a more masculine hair style, but then again, they were the ones who knew her reason behind her look; the way she looked obviously wasn't an issue for Skittery. It was the little things that had helped her to get over appearances.

Still, Tug couldn't help but take what Angela said to heart. As much as she hated to admit it, Angela was quite pretty, and deep down Tug felt slightly threatened by that. And now, to hear someone--especially Angela--say out loud those same thoughts she sometimes had running through her mind had really stirred the pot.

---

How long she sat there, head buried in her arms, she had no idea. She simply let the tears run their course, swimming through her owns thoughts and feelings about what she had over heard. Tug was so lost in her own thoughts that she jumped when the door banged open again.

"Tug? called an anxious voice. "Tug, you in here?"

Lifting her head at the sound of a familiar voice, she replied, voice cracking slightly, "In here."

"Oh good! The boys were gettin' a little worried. They sent me in here to make sure you was alright."

The voice belonged Tag Carolucci, Blink's girl. She was really sweet, definitely one of the better ones that hung around with the Manhattan newsboys. The boys thought it was absolutely hilarious that Skittery was with Tug Connolly and Blink was with Tag Carolucci. Tug and Tag. Naturally, the two girls had found it quite amusing from the start, but as boys tend to take things to an extreme, they soon grew tired of the endless emphasis on how similar the two names were. It wasn't as if they had gotten together and planned it that way.

It was nice, Tug had to admit, to have another girl around, particularly one she could tolerate. In fact, she was rather relieved to have Tag standing on the other side of the door; this situation needed a girl's touch. It wasn't exactly something Mush would be particularly helpful with--even being the sensitive guy he was; this was undoubtedly girl territory.

"Are you alright?" Tag asked, her voice edged with concern. "I mean, you been gone a while."

Shakily, Tug got to her feet; she couldn't sit there all night. Unlatching the door, she stepped out. Tag's eyes enlarged when she caught sight of Tug's red, tear stained face.

"Oh my goodness, what happened, huh? You feelin' alright?"

Tug took a deep breath before launching into the explanation of what she had overheard. It was mostly just an overview; she couldn't remember everything word for word, but Tag understood.

With something dawning on her, Tag quirked an eyebrow. "Well that Angela sure don't waste no time. She's gotta be the goil who's been throwing herself at Skittery for the last ten minutes." Tag snorted. "It's pathetic, let me tell you."

"What?" Tug said loudly, staring at Tag like she had sudden spouted an extra nose or something. "Yer serious? She's out there right now?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. But, look, you ain't got nothing to worry about," she added quickly, noticing the drop in Tug's expression. "Skittery ain't goin' for none of it. He's the one that asked me to come find you. I don't think that girl knew who he was talkin' about though, 'cause she kept right on at him."

Tug's eyes narrowed darkly. It was time to put this girl in her place and set the record straight.

---

As the two girls neared the table, Tug noticed both Angela and Skittery had their backs to them, Angela now occupying the chair that had been Tug's. Breathing in and out slowly and trying to calm the emotions that were escalating, Tug tapped Angela firmly on the shoulder, glaring.

Angela turned her head slightly; noticing Angela's attention drawn, Skittery followed suit, jumping from his seat like he had been electrocuted. His eyes darted all over the room, guiltily as he looked between the two girls. Tug didn't look at him, instead she feigned a smile, eyes locked on Angela.

"I'm sorry," Tug said in the most disgustingly sweet voice she could muster, "but ya see, yer in _my_ seat."

Angela rolled her eyes toward Skittery, ignoring Tug's comment, and stood up. She grinned devilishly, not breaking her gaze on Skittery, and pulled him toward her, landing a kiss on his mouth. Without thinking, Tug sprang forward, barrelling Angela over. However, before Tug could do any further damage to the girl, someone had grabbed her around the middle; it wasn't Skittery because he was off to one side looking both furious and horrified by what had happened.

Tug struggled against her restraint as Angela collected herself, glaring back. They shared a look of pure dislike, but only for a second because Tug yelled loudly, spitting the words she had overheard right back in Angela's face.

"You'd better believe Skittery chose _me_ over you," Tug growled. Angela gaped, looking slightly embarrassed, but trying to remain dignified. Still struggling, Tug would have liked nothing more than to slap the girl smartly across the face, but under the circumstances a verbal slap would do just fine. "Yeah, that's right--I know what ya said about me. And it ain't no mistake; he's with me now!"

Angela stood there, blinking stupidly, lost for words as everyone around her was looking at her with complete disdain.

"You'd better leave before I tell my boyfriend to let her go," Tag said with a delighted smile, stepping forward. "I can't imagine what a proper fight would do to yer pretty little face."

"And don't try comin' 'round no more, alright? I've made my choice," Skittery added firmly, finally finding his voice.

Letting out a final growl of frustration, Angela turned on her heel and stormed away, defeated. When she was out of sight, Tag turned to Blink.

"I think you can let her go now," she said, chuckling as she walked back to the table.

Skittery scooped Tug into his arms after Blink had released her. Feeling his arms around her calmed her down considerably and she relaxed against him. Looking over at Blink and Tag, Tug smiled, thankful to have friends like them. If anyone was going to mess with her they were going to be messing with all of the Manhattan newsies. Leaning into Skittery, Tug felt certain that Angela would no longer be a problem.


	3. Hidden Talent

_A/N: I do not own Skittery, Kloppman, or the Newsboys Lodging House._

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+Hidden Talent+

There was something about running that Tug liked; it was exhilarating, feeling her heart beat rapidly against her chest and the muscles in her legs tighten with every pounding step. She liked how the way the rush of air felt against her cheeks as she sprinted through the crowded sidewalks, darting and weaving with great agility between the people.

By the time she had reached Number Nine Duane Street, Tug was out of breath and ready to collapse. Leaning against the building, just outside the door of the Newsboys Lodging House, she took in a few deep breaths. When she finally regrouped from her hasty jaunt across town, Tug walked into the reception area. Kloppman was in his usual position, perched behind his desk, working on the log books. He glanced up at the sound of the door, surveying her over the tops of his spectacles.

"Hi there, Tug," he said, greeting her with a crooked smile. "Whatcha up to?"

"Hey, Mr. Kloppman," she replied, still a bit breathless. "Specs said Skittery was here. D'ya mind if I go up?"

"Skittery? I ain't sure he's here," Kloppman said, scouring his memory for Skittery's return. "He might've slipped in while I's in the back though. Alright, go on up and have a look if ya think he's there." He gave a nod toward the stairs.

Tug grinned. "Thanks!"

She ascended the stairs quickly and showed herself into the bunk room without knocking; most of the boys were out selling so she knew she was safe. Walking on her tiptoes, she peered over the tops of the bunks, expecting to find Skittery lying on his bed; he wasn't there. She stooped over and looked between the bunks thinking that he might have been to lazy to climb onto his own. Still, there was no sign of him, or anyone for that matter. Straightening up, Tug paused for a moment to listen; the room was completely silent.

Looking once more around the room, Tug quirked a curious brow. Why would Specs provide her with inaccurate information on Skittery's whereabouts. She gave a slight shrug to herself, signaling that there was nothing more to be done, and turned around to head back downstairs. Kloppman would be interested to know that he had not missed Skittery's arrival, and that in fact the place was deserted.

She had just stepped from the room when something caught her attention, bringing her retreat to a dead halt. Her wide eyes shifted from side to side as a melodic song had broken through the silence of the room. With a look of pure shock slapped across her face, Tug turned slowly on her heel, listening to the beautiful sound floating pleasantly from the innards of the washroom.

Silently praying that the floor would not creak beneath her feet and give her away, Tug inched cautiously toward the washroom. She leaned against the wall, just outside the entrance, listening to the enchanting voice from within. Tug smiled to herself as his voice grew louder and more confident, sending a wave of shivers up and down her spine. It took all her will power to suppress the noises that suddenly wanted to surge from her mouth and also to keep from peering around the wall; she knew that the moment he realized he had been caught it would end.

He carried on for a few minutes longer; Tug was so absorbed in the delightful sound that she didn't realize it was growing closer to her until it was too late to do anything about. Skittery flinched violently when he caught sight of her lurking just inside the room; the song was immediately cut off, replaced by a strangled gasp.

"Tug!" he managed to shout and groan at the same time, his cheeks reddening. He narrowed his gaze on her.

Quickly she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, but the sparkle in her eyes was too much of a give-away. It was very embarrassing to be caught eavesdropping, especially since this was something that he obviously kept private. Tug failed in her attempt to find words to explain herself; she simply stared, trying not to laugh at the embarrassed fury that twisted his expression.

"What're ya doin' here, huh?" he demanded, trying to work around actually talking about what she had overheard.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to seem less amused by the situation. "I--uh--well, Specs said you was here. I thought --"

Oh, heck, she really didn't have a reason for being there, other than simply wanting to spend some time with him, but that seemed like a rather weak excuse now that he was demanding an explanation. Biting her lip, she looked at him tentatively. "Maybe, I should just go."

With one last encouraging grin, Tug turned to take her leave. She had almost made it to the door when he called after her,

"Don't go."

She turned back around, hopeful. His anger seemed to have deflated, leaving only traces of embarrassment behind. A loud sigh escaped from the depths of his lungs as he rubbed the back of his neck, holding her gaze with his somber eyes.

"You ain't allowed to tell no one, got it?" he said, the words almost threatening, but his eyes were silently pleading with her.

Her eyebrows soared toward the ceiling; he was taking this very seriously. It was kind of funny, and so cute that Tug couldn't help the smirk that pulled at her lips as she replied,

"What're ya gonna do if I tell somebody, huh?"

His hand shot out and he grabbed her arm, pulling her in close to him and grinned. "I'll soak ya!"

Tug laughed and then sighed dramatically. "Fine. I ain't gonna tell nobody." Relief spread quickly across his face. She gave his hand a squeeze and smiled. "Besides, who'd believe me?"


	4. Discovered

_A/N: Disney owns Newsies, not me!_

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**+Discovered+**

A single raindrop fell from the sky. It dropped toward earth, plummeting onto the backside of an outstretched, ink-stained hand. The hand was holding out a single copy of The World, waving it in the faces of those who walked along the street. The voice attached to that hand had been shouting out a continuous stream of headlines to try to coax a sale--until that tiny drop of precipitation fell against her hand.

Tug paused mid-sentence when she felt the droplet; an inspection of the back of her hand confirmed her suspicions--rain. Instinctively, she titled her face skyward, looking up into the mass of gray clouds that loomed overhead. A slight shiver ran down her spine as she finally took notice of the dip in the warm, late August temperatures. As she stood there, a few more raindrops joined the first, finding her face. Tug groaned; rain was a newsie's worst enemy.

Bringing her focus back to earth, she glanced at the corner opposite her. The sprinkling of rain had not distracted Skittery from selling his newspapers; he was still hawking the headlines. Ignoring the little drops of water, Tug lifted a paper over her head and resumed shouting.

She was trading a copy of The World to a young woman pushing a baby carriage when it started to rain harder. Tug smiled and thanked the woman, who immediately hurried off to find shelter. Pocketing the coin, Tug noticed Skittery jogging toward her, looking irritated by the weather's turn. They had only been out for a couple of hours and both had a lot of newspapers left to sell, but if the rain continued that wouldn't be an easy task.

Folding her bundle in half, Tug tucked the roll under one arm. She gave Skittery a hopeful smile as he stopped in front of her. "It can't rain all day, can it?"

"Sure it can. It probably will too, by the looks of it," he replied dryly, thinking about how he needed the money to pay for his bunk at the lodge. His face scrunched up offensively as he glanced toward the sky.

Tug rolled her eyes. "Well, I ain't just gonna stand here all day waiting for it to stop. I'd rather not get drenched; I can't stand wet clothes. Come on."

She pulled him down the street, running toward an awning that hung decoratively over one of the shop windows. It would provide them with some temporary protection from the rain, which was steadily gaining momentum. A few other people had the similar idea, as they too sought shelter under the overhang.

Leaning against the large window pane, Tug swept her fingers around the brim of her cap, pushing away the excess water that had collected. She pulled the wad of newspapers out from under her arm, inspecting it for water damage. The copy on top was completely ruined as it had been the one most exposed to the elements. She made a face; that was one penny down the drain. She glanced at Skittery, who had his arms crossed over his chest--brooding--his newspapers tossed down at his feet.

Rolling her eyes with smirk, she gave him a poke in the side. "Cheer up, Skitts. It ain't all bad. I mean, you've got one thing goin' for ya."

He turned his head to look at her skeptically. "Yeah? What's that?"

"You might've been stuck under here with Blink instead of me," Tug replied with a playful grin, trying to lighten his mood. She was rewarded as he hung his head with a smile, nodding.

"I suppose yer right," he agreed, chuckling softly. "Remind me to thank you for that later."

Tug grinned, delighted by his little proposal. They tried to limit any physical public affection toward one another since--to the innocent bystanders--they didn't look like a traditional couple. It made for a lot of scrutinizing glares, and occasionally a few colorful comments, thrown their way. Of course, this was only when Tug was fronting as a newsie.

"Hey," she breathed quietly, a potential spark of brilliance lighting up her face. "I got an idea."

She pulled a dry edition of the newspaper from her bundle and poked her head around Skittery. Quite a few people where huddling under the awning now that the rain was coming down in heavy sheets just a few inches away.

"Anyone wanna buy a newspaper to pass the time?" she asked loudly, not bothering to give any details in hopes that their boredom might be enough.

"Yeah, kid, I'll take one," called a man not too far from them. He started digging in his pocket for some change.

Tug gave Skittery a nudge and hissed. "You take this one."

He stooped to gather a copy from his pile and edged along to where the man was standing. When he handed the man the paper, a coin was dropped in his hand. Skittery moved his empty hand toward his own pocket to retrieve some change. The man gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Keep it, kid."

"Thank you, sir," Skittery replied appreciatively and then skirted his way back to Tug. He opened his hand to show her the nickel he'd received and gave her a smile. "Thanks, kid."

Tug shrugged it off; she knew that it would help pay for his bunk. She glanced around hopefully. "Anyone else?"

They managed to sell one more, which Tug traded for a penny. She was pocketing the coin when she caught sight of a familiar figure stepping out from a shop just a few feet from where they were standing. Her breath caught in her throat with a horrified gasp, eyes expanding to their limits when she realized the trouble she was in. Without hesitation, she ducked behind Skittery, pulling her cap low over her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Skittery asked, alarmed by her sudden panic. He glanced in the direction that she was discretely pointing toward and groaned. He turned in toward her, further blocking her from view. "I thought ya said she was workin' today?"

Rising up on her toes, Tug peered cautiously over his shoulder. "She's supposed to be. She must be runnin' an errand or something, I dunno." Fidgeting anxiously, she groaned once more. "She can't see me, Skitts. I'm as good as dead if I get caught. You don't think she'll recognize me, do ya? What do I do?"

"Calm down," he ordered, grabbing ahold of her shoulders firmly and looking her square in the eye. He threw a quick look over his shoulder. "Look, she ain't no where near us, alright? She ain't gonna see ya over here."

Tug swallowed hard, nodding. Her stomach was churning with all the guilt and anxiety that usually accompanied the idea of being caught by her mother. Mrs. Connolly still had no idea that Tug spent her mornings as a newsie; she was under the impression that her daughter was caring for twin boys, who lived in the building across from theirs. This deception had been working wonders, up until a couple of weeks ago when Mrs. Connolly went back to work, taking a small job at a clothing shop.

With her mother out of the apartment on a regular basis, it added some complications to Tug's daily routine. It especially made getting out of the apartment in the mornings--dressed as a newsie--more difficult, but Tug was able to work around it.

Rocking up on her toes once more, Tug stole another look over Skittery's shoulder. He was right, her mother wasn't all that close to them--but anywhere within eyesight was too close for Tug. She quickly ducked behind again as her mother turned her head in their direction. Tug shook her head decisively; she couldn't take the suspense any longer.

"I can't stay here," she said, her nerves getting the best of her. "Can we go some place else?"

"I thought ya didn't wanna get all wet?" Skittery replied lightly, but stooping to gather up his newspapers.

"I'll take the rain over an encounter with my mother any day," Tug retorted, bracing herself for the drenching she was about to receive.

It was impossible to avoid the puddles; the streets were quickly collecting the water. Not that it mattered, they were completely saturated after only a few minutes of exposure. Tug felt the water splash against her bare legs as they ran through the waterlogged streets of Manhattan. After a few blocks Skittery stopped; he grabbed Tug's bundle of newspapers, combined them with his, and then chucked them into the nearest trash bin.

"Well, that's the end of that. D'ya wanna go back to the lodge? Some of the other fellas are probably there," he suggested, wiping the water pointlessly from his eyes.

Tug nodded; it wasn't like she had anywhere else to be. Even if the rain stopped they wouldn't have any newspapers to sell; if she went back home it would be empty, so spending some time at the lodging house had its appeal. She just hoped that one of the boys could loan her something dry to wear; it would be most unpleasant to sit around in damp clothes for the rest of the day.

---

Kloppman gave a loud, audible sigh as Skittery and Tug walked through the door. The water dripped from their clothes, leaving a small river on the entrance hall floor as they crossed to the stairs. Grumpily snatching up the mop that was propped against the desk, Kloppman set to work sopping up the water for the fourth time in the past half hour. The two of them could still hear him grumbling as they reached the top of the stairs.

They half expected the bunk room to be flooded with newsies--driven off the streets by the rain--but surprisingly, only a handful had found their way back. A few boys were lying on their bunks, catching up on some much needed sleep. While others were still trying to dry themselves out.

Stopping short just inside the door, Tug quickly clapped a hand over her eyes when she caught sight of some bare skin across the room. It hadn't even crossed her mind that some of them might be changing out of their wet clothes; she had just waltzed right in without a second thought.

"Yer in the clear, Tug. Everyone's got slacks on," said Blink as he walked by, on his way to the washroom.

She peered cautiously between her fingers before letting her hand slide completely away. Chuckling, she apologized. "Sorry, fellas. I wasn't thinkin'."

"Here. Catch," Skittery said, flinging a towel at her.

Her attempt to catch the towel failed and instead, it hit her in the face. Everyone who had been watching laughed, including Tug. Pulling her cap from her head, she dried off her face first. Then, she furiously rubbed the towel over her hair to dry it out. She could tell by the smirk on Skittery's face when he looked over at her, that her hair was probably all askew--sticking straight out in all directions. Rolling her eyes, she flung the towel back at him, which he caught neatly in one hand.

"You got any extra clothes?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair, taming the wildness.

"Um," Skittery said, looking inside his locker. "Not really. Unless ya wanna wear my long-johns." He held up the crumpled pair of pink long-johns, which looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks.

Tug crinkled her nose, revolted by the offer. "They're disgusting! I ain't wearin' them!"

Skittery gave them a sniff. "They ain't that bad."

Rolling her eyes, Tug snorted. "Maybe not for you, but I can smell 'em from here!" She pulled a face before turning to the others in the room. "Anyone got something I can borrow?"

With her request up in the air, a few of the others rummaged through their things and--being the cheeky little boys they are--pelted her with the articles of clothing they had unearthed.

When the shower of clothes ended, Tug surveyed the possibilities. Selecting the most practical pieces, she hurried to the washroom to change.

After hanging her own clothes over one of the sinks to dry, she padded--bare foot--back to Skittery's bunk, nearly wiping out on the slippery floor. She caught herself against the frame and then carefully climbed up, wrapping herself in his blanket. Just then a few more boys came stomping into the room, looking like drown rats.

"I ain't never gonna be properly dry again!" grumbled Racetrack, throwing his hat angrily on the floor beside his bed. Unhooking his suspenders, he looked about ready to strip off his clothes.

Tug cleared her throat loudly and smirked as all the newcomers whirled around. "I think you'll find there is a lady present. So, you may wanna choose yer next move wisely, Racetrack."

"Lady?" Racetrack replied, eyes darting dramatically around the room. "I don't see no lady here."

"Shut up, Race," Skittery said, giving him a shove as he walked by. He looked up at Tug. "Let's go downstairs, alright?"

Glad to get away from the others, Tug slid from the bunk, still clutching the blanket around her shoulders. Together, she and Skittery walked down to the common room and settled onto the sofa, wrapped up in the blanket.

"This sure beats standin' out in the rain," Tug said with a smile as Skittery leaned in toward her, nodding.

After a bit they broke apart and he said with a smile, "Thanks for sellin' with me today."

Their lips were just about to meet again when the sound of heavy footsteps came pounding down the hallway and was soon followed by small body vaulting over the back of the sofa and tumbling between them.

"Tumbler!" Skittery shouted when the boy fell mostly into his lap. He gave him a shove, moving over to make room for the intruder.

"Guess what, Skittery? Guess what, Tug?" Tumbler said excitedly, looking between the two older newsies with his twinkling brown eyes.

Skittery groaned; he wouldn't be quick to forgive the kid for his bad timing. Tug, on the other hand, looked at Skittery over Tumbler's head and gave a shrug, smiling warmly at the little boy as he nestled into the sofa.

"What's up, Tumbler?" she asked.

"So, I was sellin' me papes like I always do, right? And well, ya knows how it started to rain? Well..." He launched into his tale of how he escaped the rain, much like everyone else had, by seeking shelter. There was really no point to the story, other than wanting to share his adventure with the person he looked up to--Skittery, who was rolling his eyes and making faces behind the kid's back throughout the tale.

"Ain't that great, Skitts? And I done it all by myself too!" he said proudly, a wide grin stretched across his face.

Skittery forced a smile, ruffling Tumbler's hair. "Yeah! Real great, Tumbler."

Finished with his tale, Tumbler scrambled from the sofa and joined some of the other boys who had made their way into the room. Skittery looked around and shook his head sadly. So much for some alone time.

---

Late in the afternoon Tug decided that it was time to go home. She had about an hour and a half before her mother would be home from work, giving her plenty of time to figure out what to do with her wet clothes. Skittery and Tug stood in the entrance hall, looking out through the window at the steady drizzle of rain, not giving up its attack on the city.

"Let me walk ya home," Skittery insisted.

Tug shook her head, looking him square in the eye. "Skittery, I'll be fine. There ain't no sense in you goin' out in the rain again. I'll just see ya tomorrow, alright?"

"Yeah, fine," he muttered grumpily, stooping to deliver a quick kiss. "Sell with me tomorrow, will ya? If it ain't still raining."

Tug grinned. "I'll think about it."

With that, she skipped out the door and ran down the street. The weather, being like is, made the journey slightly easier; the streets weren't crowded with people to dart between. In what seemed like no time at all, Tug found her way back to her apartment complex. It was a relief to know that waiting inside was a nice dry pair of clothes that actually fit her.

Climbing the stairs two at a time and leaving puddles of water where she stepped, Tug made the three story climb to her apartment door. Jiggling the handle, she was slightly alarmed to find it already unlocked. Perhaps her mother had forgotten to lock it on her way out this morning; throwing her shoulder into the door, she pushed her way inside.

What she found waiting for her inside made her want to run right back out again; knowing that her impulse was impossible, Tug closed the door behind her, not taking her eyes off her mother's furious expression. Frozen, Tug stood in front of the door with the water running from her clothes into a small puddle at her feet. She scarcely even breathed, waiting for her mother to speak first.

"You've got some explaining to do young lady," her mother said through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring threateningly as she eyed up her daughter's outfit. She whipped a pointed finger at the bedroom. "March yerself in there, put on some dry clothes, and then you'll tell me why--when I went over to the Garrett's--Mrs. Garrett said ya ain't been over there since May. However, I see the reason is quite clear. Now get!"

Tug hurtled into the bedroom like she had been electrocuted. She stripped off all of her clothes, dried with a towel, and then pulled on the first dress she grabbed from the wardrobe. It was all so fast that she really didn't have time to dwell on the conversation that she was about to have. Before she stepped back into the living room, Tug took a few deep breaths to suppress the nerves that were beginning to surface. Bracing herself, she pulled open the door.

"Sit," Mrs. Connolly ordered, pointing a finger at the sofa. She gave her a pointed look, indicating that the explanation could begin at any time.

Tug swallowed, looking up at her mother's narrowed expression. Biting her lip and wringing her hands in her lap, she search for the words to explain her recent behavior. It pained her to see her mother so upset.; not since her father died had her mother seemed so overwhelmed with emotion. Tug knew this secret could not stay hidden forever, no matter how hard she tried; her mother's reaction was not far off from how she'd pictured it in her mind. However, Tug was not prepared for the tidal wave of emotion that she was suddenly hit with.

Sitting there, looking at disappointment in her mother's eyes, Tug couldn't think of anything other than all the lies and deceit that surrounded her life. And as much as she had been dreading this conversation with her mother, Tug knew that it would be a relief to finally end this rebellious chapter in her life. She would have to find a way to get her mother to see the reason behind her decisions. It was the disappointment, more so than the anger that brought the tears rolling down her cheek. Wiping away the streams, Tug said the only thing she could bear at the moment,

"I'm really sorry, Ma."

Her mind reeled with a thousand different ways of explaining herself, but the words seemed unable to leave her head. Taking in a few shaky breaths, she watched her mother's reaction carefully. Her mother stood, leaning against the table with her arms folded across her chest, studying her daughter from the distance. She shook her head in sheer disbelief as she felt it was time to help the conversation along.

"It ain't difficult to figure out what you've been doing with yer days. What I'd really like to know is why. I ain't like you to do something like this, Claire, especially when you know how I feel about it. So, I have to know why."

Tug took a deep breath and let the words spill.

"I tried, honestly I did. I tried to stay away from the newsies when ya asked me too, but I couldn't. I put so much into that new part of my life that I wasn't ready to give it up when you asked me to--even though I tried. I couldn't give up bein' a newsies because I had made some friends, friends who actually cared when I didn't show up for three days. I think that is the biggest reason for why I'm still doin' it. I just like bein' out on the streets. I like sellin' newspapers; I'm good at it."

Her mother sighed, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers, attempting to understand her daughter's motives.

"I know it was wrong to lie to ya, but I knew ya wasn't gonna change yer mind." Tug sniffed, wiping her eyes again. "I'm sorry."

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, Mrs. Connolly gave her head a frustrated shake. She let slip a dark chuckle, looking across the room at her daughter. "I've lost my little girl, haven't I?" Tears glistened in her eyes she spoke with a quiet harshness. "I wish you would've just went to work at the shop like I asked. Now, because of all this newsie nonsense, you've been lying, sneaking around, and doing God knows what else! All I want is to know that yer safe. How can I know that yer safe when yer walkin' around Manhattan all day long--with a group of boys?"

"You ain't gotta worry about me, honest. I ain't stupid; I haven't sold alone since the first week I started. And, I'm usually dressed like a boy, so nobody thinks nothing about it."

Mrs. Connolly wasn't ready to give in that easily; she had plenty of concerns to work with. "Well, what if one of 'em realize yer a girl, huh? They're a bunch of boy who've been living on the streets most their lives; they ain't had a proper upbringing. What d'ya think their gonna do to an unsuspecting girl? It pains me to think about it, Claire."

Tug actually laughed. She didn't mean to, but it couldn't be helped; what her mother had said was absolutely absurd, in her opinion. Sure the boys were a little rough around the edges, but most of them weren't the kind to go around attacking girls in dark alleys. The laughter was mostly because her mind immediately lept to an image of Mush beating on some poor, defenseless girl--something that would never happen.

As for a proper upbringing--since when did that determine the quality of a person? Tug had known plenty of people with 'proper' upbringings; they were the type of people that she certainly would not want to associate herself with. Aside from her mother's comment being humorous, she was also a little offended by her quick judgement.

"I'd like to think I'm a better judge of character. I ain't just gonna be friends with the first person that comes along." It was beside the point that this was actually true; Racetrack had been one of the first people she met. "Them boys ain't all bad. I mean, the boys I'm friends with know I'm a girl--they have for a while now--and ain't nothing like that happened after they found out, alright?" Tug sighed loudly. "If anything they got more protective. Anyone who tries to mess with me is gonna in for it, 'cause them boys ain't gonna take too kindly to it."

There was silence as Mrs. Connolly seemed to be contemplating her decision on the matter, considering everything Tug had told her. Tug watched her carefully, trying to read an expressionless face. Nodding to herself, Mrs. Connolly moved from her spot and sat down next to Tug. She wrapped an arm around her daughter, looking at her with a loving firmness.

"I'm still upset that you've been lying to me, and there will be consequences, but I think I understand why this happened the way it did. Perhaps it could have been avoided if I had listened to you in the first place." She paused a moment to take a breath. "Promise me that you will never do something like this again. I always want to know what's goin' on in yer life. Yer all I have, Claire."

Tug closed her eyes, leaning against her mother. "I promise."

In the back of her mind, Tug's thoughts drifted to Skittery. One thing at a time, she told herself while her mother hugged her tightly. She wasn't exactly lying to her mother by not telling her about Skittery; she was just overlooking the truth. That particular detail of her life could be saved for another rainy day.


	5. Another Rainy Day

_A/N: Newsies = Not Mine_

* * *

**+Another Rainy Day+**

It had definitely been another rainy day in Manhattan, but for the time being, the sky finally seemed purged of every last raindrop. The sudden end to the rain was a relief to most, since it had been a constant stream of storms over the past two days. The weather had been so foul that it made selling newspapers practically impossible for the newsies, which meant they had a few, well deserved days off. However, they had been cooped up inside the Lodging House for nearly two days; the break in precipitation couldn't have come at a more convenient hour.

"Looks like I win again, fellas," Blink said proudly, laying his cards on the table. He beamed around the table at the sour expressions on the four other boys' faces.

"Unbelievable, that's the third game in a row," Skittery grumbled, shaking his head. He tossed his cards across the table. "I think we've been cheated."

"Yeah," agreed Racetrack, pulling the cigar from his mouth as he eyed up Blink suspiciously. "How's it ya got so good all of the sudden, Blink?"

Blink smiled broadly as he scooped his winnings into his hat and shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe 'cause I been watchin' you bums play for two days straight."

All of them simply shook their heads in disbelief, unable to find words to express how losing to Blink in three straight games made them feel.

"Anyone up for another game?" Blink asked cheerfully, giving the cards what he thought was a very professional shuffle, but he ended up dropping half of them on the floor.

Racetrack shrugged. "I'll go one more, just to see if I can't beat ya. It's Jack's deal."

Blink passed the cards to Jack, who proceeded to shuffle the deck in a more skilled manner.

Skittery stood, holding up his hands in defeat. "I'm out. I've lost enough money already."

Slowly, he trudged over to his bunk. On rainy days, such as these, there wasn't much else to do besides play cards and catch up on some sleep. Having already played nearly twenty games, poker was quickly losing it's appeal, especially when he had lost the last five hands. Stuffing the few coins he had left into his hidden store, Skittery departed from the bunk room to see what was happening downstairs. He had just crossed in front of the reception desk, heading toward the back hall, when a small figure barrelled into him. Skittery stumbled slightly, catching the culprit with his hands, steadying them both.

"Tumbler!" Skittery sighed, exasperated by this repeated offense over the last few days. "Slow down, will ya?"

"Sorry, Skittery. I forgot," Tumbler replied quickly, flashing him a whimsical grin.

"Where ya goin', huh? Are ya leavin', 'cause it stopped raining?"

Skittery glanced toward the window, but the outside darkness made it difficult to tell from inside if the rain really had stopped. Turning back to the curious face beaming up at him, Skittery looked at the small boy thoughtfully.

"I was comin' to see what you was doin', but if the rain's stopped, I think I'll go for a walk."

"Can I come with ya? Can I, Skittery? Huh? Can I?"

"Yeah, alright, but you gotta promise me one thing," Skittery replied, raising a serious eyebrow at Tumbler, who vigorously nodded his compliance. "When I say so, ya have to turn back. Alright?"

"Sure, Skitts," Tumbler agreed with a small shrug of his shoulders. He turned and bounding out the front door; propping open the door and looking back, he called, "Ya comin' or what?"

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Skittery followed Tumbler onto the street, careful not to step in any of the millions of puddles that had settled on the pavement. Even though sky was no longer leaking, water continued to rain down from the rooftops and trees that ran along the streets, making their journey slightly more difficult than they anticipated. Skittery tried to avoid the drippings when possible, but Tumbler was more than content running directly beneath them, laughing as he went.

It was easy to admire the young boy for being so carefree, skipping about the streets without a second thought for what he was doing. Skittery chuckled, as Tumbler was nearly to the end of the street, and quickened his pace to a light jog in order to catch up.

"Ya gotta slow down, kid. I'm too old to be chasing after ya," Skittery complained lightly, giving Tumbler a gentle shove.

"Awe, Skitts, ya ain't _that_old!" Tumbler said, adjusting his lopsided hat and giving the older newsie a wide grin. Slowing to a walk, he stayed quietly at Skittery's side for a few moments, but as silence didn't exactly suit Tumbler, he began an interrogation. "So, where are ya goin', huh, Skittery? Will ya tell me? Please?"

Skittery pursed his lips, giving the question some consideration before answering. Where he was going was really much of a secret, but making a game out of it would keep Tumbler occupied while they walked. He grinned slyly. "You gotta guess."

Tumbler's eyes lit up in delight; he liked a challenge. He rubbed his hands together as he carefully thought about where his friend might be headed. "Are ya goin' to the store?"

"Nope."

"Are ya goin' to a pub?"

Skittery quirked a brow at his young friend. "No, Tumbler, I ain't goin' to a pub."

The younger boy was quiet again as he was thinking very hard. He gave a snap of his fingers, eyes bright with a conclusion. Skittery nodded, urging the kid to speak, thinking he finally had it figured out.

"Yer goin' to Anthony Street, ain't ya?"

"What!?" Skittery exclaimed loudly, stopping dead in his tracks. His eyes narrowed in a shocked disbelief; that was the last thing he had ever expected to come tumbling from a kid's mouth. "How do _you_ know about Anthony Street?"

Tumbler dropped his gaze, realizing that he had said something foolish. He toed at the ground while he spoke. "Well, I--uh--I heard Jack and Racetrack talkin' 'bout it one time. They was sayin' how it's a good place to have some fun late at night. So, I just thought..." He gave a small, innocent shrug.

Running a hand over his flushed face, Skittery groaned. He leaned forward so that he was eye level with Tumbler. "Look, Tumbler, I don't want you goin' anywhere near Anthony Street. It ain't yer kind of fun, alright? Promise me, kid."

"Yeah, alright, Skitts. I won't."

"Good," he said, straightening up. "Now, I'll give ya one more guess, alright? And ya better make it a good one."

They crossed the street while Tumbler sank back into his thoughts, searching for the answer.

"Yer goin' to see Tug, ain't ya?"

"Geez, it took ya long enough. I thought it was obvious," Skittery replied with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He cuffed Tumbler in the back of the head playfully, shaking his head as he muttered, "Anthony Street, good grief."

"Awe, Skittery, can't I go with ya? I ain't seen Tug in a while," Tumbler said, putting on his best whiny voice. "Please?"

"No, Tumbler," Skittery replied firmly. He hadn't seen Tug in a while either, since the day the damp weather had settled in -- two days ago, which seemed like an eternity; especially after being cooped up in the Lodging House all that time.

If it had been any other time, he might have let Tumbler go along, but Skittery had been feeling a little selfish lately, when it came to Tug. He was tired of always having to share her with the other boys. And it wasn't even so much that he felt threatened by them -- really the situation couldn't be helped, they were her friends too -- but he was becoming very frustrating because it often felt like he was competing for her attention when they were with the other newsies, and Skittery didn't want to feel that way.

So, for at least tonight, Skittery was going to keep Tug to himself. Besides, he knew that Tumbler wouldn't just say hello and leave, he would end up staying half the night, and Skittery couldn't have that. Fortunately he knew exactly what to say to dissuade his young friend.

"It wouldn't be much fun for ya anyway. I mean, I ain't seen Tug in a while either. So...ya know what that means, don't ya?"

"No, what?"

"There'll be lots of kissin'," Skittery replied, grinning.

"Kissin'?" he retorted, making an awful retching noise and crinkling his nose in complete disgust. "Yer right, that ain't no fun."

Skittery snorted, giving his head a little shake. He sighed. "When the right girl comes along ya might just change yer mind."

"Is Tug the right girl for you, Skitts?" Tumbler asked, looking up at his friend earnestly.

Skittery stopped and turned on his heel, looking thoughtfully up at the night sky and replied, "Maybe." He gave a shrug and jostled Tumbler's hat as he looked back down at him. "Alright, you better head back now. I'll see ya later."

"Okay," he replied halfheartedly, holding out hope that Skittery would change his mind. "Tell her I says hello, alright?"

"Sure, kid," Skittery said with a wave and watched Tumbler skip off back where they had just come.

It wasn't much further to the building where Tug lived with her mother; just over one more block and through an alley. It wouldn't be the first time he had gone to visit her during the late hours of the night; all during the summer, on the more pleasant nights, the two of them had spent a countless number of hours together, sitting on the fire escape outside Tug's apartment, alone. What with having to sneak behind Mrs. Connolly's back and finding ways to escape their ever lingering mess of newsie friends, the late night hours had been the only private time they were able to manage.

Nearing the building, Skittery could see a figured silhouetted against the lighted window he knew to be Tug's apartment. Stealthily, he ascended the wrought iron construction, taking the stairs two at a time, up to the third level where she was waiting.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come," Tug breathed quietly, watching him scale the final flight of stairs with a satisfied grin.

A smile stretched slowly across Skittery's face when her face caught the light; she looked particularly fetching in a simple cotton dress. It wasn't often that he got to see this side of her, but it was always a pleasant surprise when he did. As she flushed slightly under his gaze, the question that Tumbler had asked him surfaced to his mind--Is Tug the right girl for you, Skitts?--and in that moment there was no doubt in his mind that she was perfect.

He pulled her from her seat and into his arms in one swift motion, grinning like a loon.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, giving a soft chuckled just before their lips came together. Skittery pulled her closer, only then realizing how much he had missed her over the past couple of days.

"I've got something to tell ya," Tug said when they finally parted. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, moving to lean against the railing. Skittery quirked a brow in response and she continued softly, "Ma found out about me."

Skittery's eyebrows flew upward in shock; that wasn't exactly what he had been expecting to hear because everything had been running smoothly for so long. He knew that Mrs. Connolly didn't want Tug being a newsie, and finding out that her daughter had gone against her wishes wasn't likely to go over well, which could have some serious effects on their relationship.

Shifting uneasily and frowning, he replied, "How?"

"The other day--after I left the Lodge--she was already here when I got back. Said she got off early and went lookin' for me over at the Garrett's. Of course, they told her I ain't been there in months. It didn't take much for her to piece everything together, I'm sure. I had to do a lot of explaining that night."

"And?" Skittery pressed, anxious for the reaction. "How'd she take it?"

"Well, she wasn't happy at first --"

"Naturally."

"And, I mean, she still ain't pleased about all the lies I told her, but--I think she has a bit of an understanding as to why I did it. Although, she hasn't exactly said whether or not I can still be a newsie, I think she'll come around. So, in the mean time, I've been doin' lots of work around the house as a punishment." Tug gave a small shrug. "I think the biggest issue she has, is that she's worried about my safety."

Skittery brushed a hand against her cheek and grinned. "She ain't got nothing to worry about, ya know that, right? We take care of ya, me and the fellas."

Tug smiled faintly. "Yeah, I know that, but she don't. It's not any easy thing to explain, especially 'cause she don't like that yer all boys."

"Did ya tell her about us?" Skittery asked, but when her eyes slide away from his, he knew she hadn't. He let out a small exasperated sigh.

"It just wasn't the right time, ya know? I didn't know how to tell her, but I will--soon. I promise."

"Yeah, alright," Skittery replied, not quite convinced by her promise. He didn't like that Tug was keeping their relationship from her mother; she was already angry with Tug for lying about being a newsie. How would she take to finding out about him?

It was something that Skittery had thought about on occasion--Mrs. Connolly finding out about his relationship with daughter -- and it always brought a swarm of butterflies into his stomach. It was particularly nerve-racking because Tug's mother was obviously very protective, and Skittery wasn't entirely sure the idea would go over well; especially because he was a newsie and he knew where she stood on that issue. There was also the idea that most mothers want the best for their daughters, wanting them to be courted by someone in a more suitable position than he currently was in. He was, after all, just scraping by to make a living for himself, with no real ambitions or ideas as to what he would do when he could be a newsie anymore. Usually, when his thoughts traveled toward the future Skittery had to stop himself; there was no use trying to predict what the future held for him, because for now he was content with the present.

"So--um--what you been doin' the last few days?" Tug asked after a silence filled the air for a few moments. She wanted to move past the daunting subject of her mother.

Shrugging, Skittery reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a match. He scratched the match across the railing to spark a light, then touched it to the end of the cigarette. Taking a long drag, he plucked the cylinder from his lips and replied,

"Well, let's see...I slept, played cards with the fellas, did some eatin', slept some more, played more cards--lost a day's pay to Kid Blink--and, uh, slept."

"Sounds exciting," Tug said with a smirk. "I just have one question. How'd ya lose _that_ much money to Blink? I mean, even I've beat him before."

Exhaling a puff of smoke irritably, the memory still painfully close, Skittery scowled, "I dunno, really. He's just lucky, I guess. Racetrack and Jack were gonna play him one last time, but I couldn't afford to lose anymore money, so I left when they was startin' a new game."

A thought suddenly hit him, as the earlier events of the night ran through his mind.

"Tumbler says hello, by the way. He walked with me some of the way here."

"Awe, that's sweet. He must've caught ya in a good mood, huh?" she said, playfully jabbing him in the side.

Skittery chuckled, catching her prodding fingers. "You'd never guess what that kid said to me --"

He stopped short. Tug had suddenly squeezed his hand tightly; a soft gasp escaped her lips; her eyes widened with some unexplainable fear, staring at the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Shhh..." she hissed, pressing a finger to her lips. Very slowly, she crept toward the window. A severe, tense expression narrowed her features as she listened to the sounds that were coming from inside the apartment.

There was only one person left on the other side of that curtain who could be making noise--Mrs. Connolly.

The reality of the situation had barely sunk in when Mrs. Connolly's panicked voice rose when she discovered that Tug was missing from her bed on the sofa.

"Claire? Where are you, Claire?"

Her eyes darted to every corner of the fire escaped, looking for a possible solution, but nothing looked promising. Skittery's heart starting rabbiting with the anticipation of being caught. Acting quickly, Tug pushed Skittery against the wall next to the window and called out, trying to keep her voice as even as possible,

"Calm down, Ma, I'm right here."

Tug held Skittery's gaze for a moment and gave his hand another, more reassuring squeeze. Ripping her eyes from his, she turned back to the window, her mother's footsteps growing closer.

"What're ya doin' out there? Yer gonna catch yer death!"

Tug ducked her head through the window. "I just needed some fresh air?"

Skittery could feel the bricks against his back as he flattened himself against the wall. It was bad enough that Mrs. Connolly didn't know about him, but more than likely it wasn't going to help their cause to be caught like this. It was well past respectable visiting hours, but then again, the girl he wasn't seeing wasn't exactly the conventional type, in appearance or actions. Still, he couldn't help the nerves that were swelling up inside of him as Tug and her mother exchanged a few more words.

And then it happened...

Hoping to clam his nerves a bit, Skittery breathed in slowly through his nose, trapping the air in his lungs. It was just then that he felt a little tickle inside his nose. He gave it a twitch, praying that it would pass; it didn't. He rubbed his nose furiously, trying to alleviate the itch, but it only seemed to make it worse. He eyes started to water as he tried unsuccessfully to hold it back -- and then he let loose a sneeze that sent all of that pent up air rushing from his body. He could have sworn that it echoed down the alleyway. The moment it passed, he regained the hold on his breath, hoping that it hadn't been as loud as he had thought.

It wasn't quite that loud, but it most definitely did not go unnoticed.

"Did ya hear that sneeze?"

"Umm," Tug said indifferently, swatting at Skittery with her closest hand.

"Is there someone out there with you, Claire?"

Mrs. Connolly's voice was now very close to the window.

"Move," she ordered. Reluctantly, Tug stepped back from the window, fearful eyes locked on Skittery, who was slightly concealed in the shadows. Mrs. Connolly pushed aside the curtain and leaned out the window. She took one look at Tug and followed her daughter's gaze. She let out a sharp gasp and clutched at her chest. Her face hardened as she looked between the pair of them. "Both of you, get inside--now!"

Skittery caught Tug's eye for too brief a moment before she ducked into the room. He followed, heart hammering against his chest, wishing he could dash down the fire escape instead, but he knew that would help anything. He straightened up, standing beside Tug, waiting for the moment when Mrs. Connolly would start yelling at them -- adults always yelled at him when they wanted to get their point across. Skittery avoided the piercing stare that Tug's mother had locked on them; he was afraid of what her expression might reveal. He studied the tops of his brown shoes, instead, noting their scruffiness. His cheeks warmed as he suddenly felt very embarrassed by his shabby state; this was not the impression he would have liked to make with Tug's mother.

"We've met once before, haven't we?" Mrs. Connolly said, directing her first inquiry toward Skittery. "You came once, earlier in the summer--Scooter or something, right?"

Skittery felt his face flush even more at the error in her recollection. Swallowing hard, he forced his eyes upward to meet hers; her expression was hard, her mouth turned down in a frown, and her arms were folding over her chest -- but in her eyes, he thought saw traced of amusement. It was this subtle indication of hope that fueled him with the courage to speak.

"Skittery, ma'am."

"Oh yes, right...Skittery," she said with a great distaste, like she had the first time she met him. "Yer a newsboy, aren't ya?"

"Yes, ma'am."

It surprised him when suddenly a smile broke across Mrs. Connolly's face. She shifted her brightened gaze toward her daughter.

"So, is this the reason for all this newsie business, Claire? Why didn't ya just tell me?"

Tug's eyebrows furrowed, slightly flabbergasted by her mother's reaction; it was not what either of them had been expecting. "I--I didn't know how to tell ya. I thought you'd be upset."

"Well, I would have rather ya told me, than finding out like this. There is a more appropriate time for him to come callin' on you. This will be the last time he visits this late at night, ya hear? I don't want anyone gettin' any ideas about how I raised ya. I mean, ya know how folks like to talk."

"Ma!" Tug groaned, blushing furiously.

"Yes, ma'am," Skittery replied quickly, wanting to stay on Mrs. Connolly's good side while he had it. "I don't think it will be necessary anymore."

As he tried to look sincere and convincing in his claim, he felt Tug's hand brush against his, making his expression even more difficult to know. It was like he could read her mind through that brief contact; he knew that Tug didn't believe a word he said.

"You know I had a good feelin' about you," Mrs. Connolly said, smiling warmly at Skittery. "Call it a mother's instinct, but I knew there something about ya; I could feel it in my bones."

"Oh, Ma!" Tug groaned, rolling her eyes; Mrs. Connolly just smile. Sighing heavily, Tug looked at her mother skeptically. "So, ya don't mind me seein' Skittery?"

"If you're happy than I have no objections. However, seein' as it's rather late now, I think it's time Sk--no! No, I really can't possibly you that ridiculous name. You must have a real name, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's Sam."

"I think, Sam, that it is time for you to be leavin' --"

"Can't he just stay a little longer?" Tug begged.

"Say good night, sweetheart." Mrs. Connolly gave a firm nod and crossed toward the bedroom; she looked back once she reached the door. "I'll give ya two minutes."

With only two minutes left together, Skittery wanted to make the most of it, but Tug gave him a warning look.

"She's probably watching," Tug said in a low voice, glancing pointedly toward the bedroom door.

"So what?"

"So, ya better keep it modest, alright?" She slipped her hand into his and grinned.

Leaning in, he pecked her on the cheek and smirked. "How's that?"

"Lousy, but it'll have to do," Tug replied, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Pray that it don't rain tomorrow. I can't stand another day stuck here."

"Alright, time's up," Mrs. Connolly announced, stepping back into the room. She crossed to the door, holding it open for Skittery. "Sam, why don't you come 'round for dinner tomorrow? Say, six o'clock? Yer usually done by then?"

"Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Connolly. Good night."

"Good night, Sam."

Stepping out the door, Skittery glanced one final time at Tug, who had sunk unhappily onto the sofa; her eyes lit up when she caught his gaze and she gave him a knowing little half smile before the door shut. As he walked back toward Duane Street, Skittery marveled at how well Mrs. Connolly had taken everything. Perhaps she wasn't quite as overbearing as Tug always made her out to be; she had, after all, accepted him--a disheveled, newspaper selling street rat--and his love for her daughter. He looked up at the starry night sky, suddenly perplexed by his own thoughts. _Love?_ Was that what this was turning into? Maybe she really was the right girl for him...


	6. Dancing

**+Dancing+**

"Come on, Skittery. Please?" Tug asked, leaning across the table to stare at him with big pleading eyes. Her bottom lip stuck out ever so slightly, trying to win him over with a dramatic pout.

"No," Skittery replied firmly, crossing his arms against his chest. He already had his mind made up and he would not give in to her, no matter what faces she made at him. "I don't want to."

"Just this once, please?" she said again, a little more urgently. It was probably the twentieth time she had asked him various forms of the same question, but his answer never changed. He was stubborn that way.

"No," he repeated, his eyes widened slightly to prove the point. After that he looked away; the conversation was beginning to agitate him in the worse way. It wasn't like her to nag him for so long about one thing, but here she was doing just that. She usually knew when to let up, before he ever really got angry with her, but that time had come and gone. Skittery gripped the edge of the table as her begging continued.

"One time, Skitts. Just for me." Her eyes were still pleading, though he avoided her gaze. His answer came with the prolonged shaking of his head; he didn't trust what would come out of his mouth if he spoke. One of her hands slapped against the table as she gave a dramatic sigh, brimming with anguish. "Yer impossible sometimes, ya know that?"

"Well, it ain't gonna happen, so quit askin' me," he growled, snapping his frustrated gaze back across the table. He could see the fire lighting inside her as the tension between the escalated. He could sense that she was about to verbalize the thoughts behind that glint in her eye, so Skittery did the only thing he could think of; he pushed himself to his feet and asked, trying to avoid the next half of the conversation, "Ya want a drink or something?"

With her jaw set, Tug narrowed her fiery eyes at him. "No, I don't want a drink. I wanna know why ya never want to dance with me, Skittery?"

He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his rising irritation. It was taking all his energy to remain in control of his emotions; couldn't she see that? Why wouldn't she just let it go? He didn't understand why it was so important to her. It was such a stupid thing to be arguing about.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya, Tug? I don't dance. Can't ya just leave it at that? I don't dance!" The words escaped louder than he intended to, but they had the desired effect.

"Fine!" she spat, rising to her feet, fists clenched. She glowered in his direction for another brief moment, trying to regain her composure as she contemplated her next move. Drawing in a deep, decisive breath, she smoothed out her skirt, a manipulative little grin spread across her face. "I'll just go find someone that wants to dance with me."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked off into the mob of people, packed into the theater's auditorium. Skittery could do no more than blink as he watched her disappear into the crowd. Still smoldering from their exchange--and knowing that the more time he let pass, the harder she would be to find--Skittery couldn't bring himself to go after her. Instead, he thought he'd let his irritation fade by washing it away with a few drinks. So he sauntered off toward the bar without a second glance behind him.

---

Her little plan had backfired. Tug had thought for sure Skittery would have come after her, or even called out to her before she had gotten too far away. But he never did. And when she turned back around--standing on her tiptoes to see between heads--he was no longer in sight. If he had been upset before, the little stunt she had just pulled had probably sent him over the edge. Her heart sank slightly at the thought, but then it quickly began to heat in anger.

One dance with him, that is all she wanted, just one, a slower one. It was not like she was asking him to do anything fancy, nothing that required some special talent; all Tug wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms while they swayed with the music--to look up and see him smiling back at her while they circled the floor like they were the only two people in the room. It was such a small thing to want, but such a simple pleasure seemed unattainable with Skittery.

It was becoming tedious--and almost spiteful--to see every other couple dance together while she watched from her seat on the sidelines. Tug wanted nothing more than to be seen with him as his girlfriend, not just as the girl who is always in his company, because that was how their relationship was beginning to feel, particularly when they were out in public.

Skittery always claimed that he didn't dance, but Tug felt that his reasoning was weak; there had to be some other reason, but he never elaborated. Even Crutchy, who had a real excuse for not dancing, never passed up the opportunity when it arose. But nothing seemed to be able to change Skittery's mind.

"Tug!"

She was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of her name and an arm suddenly looping through her own.

"Yer just the girl I was lookin' for!"

For whatever reason of employment, the number of newsgirls in New York City was slowly rising; the voice in Tug's ear belong to one such newsgirl by the name of Nicolette Porter, better known as Inky in the newsies' world. Inky hailed from Harlem, but often found her way into Manhattan with a certain blond, bespectacled newsboy on her mind.

"You were lookin' for me?" Tug replied as Inky was leading the both of them between the clusters of people.

"Of course, silly," Inky said with a giggle, holding onto Tug's arm tightly as if to keep her from escaping. This caused Tug to wonder if Inky had been sampling some of the stronger drinks from the bar; the girl's cheeks were growing more pink as she spoke. "I was wonderin' if ya might do me a favor?"

Tug pursed her lips, eyeing her friend's hopeful expression with hesitation; Inky always seemed to be scheming in one way or another--whether it was selling her newspapers, playing cards, or trying to win Dutchy's affection. She always had a plan of attack. Tug had known Inky long enough to know better than to agree to something without the details of what she was getting herself into. And considering their current surroundings, Tug could only assume that this had something to do with Dutchy.

"What's the favor?"

Inky stopped abruptly, looking at Tug in a very businesslike manner. "I need ya to dance with Snipeshooter."

Tug quirked a brow, signalling for Inky to continue with a more detailed explanation.

"The thing is, is that Dutchy says he'll dance, but only if Snipeshooter does. So, I was lookin' for a girl for Snipe and I saw ya first. So, I was thinkin' maybe you could dance with him so's I can dance with Dutchy?" Inky's eyebrows pinched together nervously as she bit down on her bottom lip, watching Tug with pleading eyes.

Snipeshooter wasn't exactly who Tug had in mind when she said she would find someone else to dance with, but if it would help Inky's cause then she couldn't refuse. It wouldn't be the worse thing she had ever done for the girl.

"Alright, Ink. If it'll get Dutchy to dance with ya then count me in," Tug said, smiling at the sheer delight beaming from her friend's face.

"Yer the best!" Inky squealed, linking her arm with Tug's again and pulling her at a near run across the room.

Dutchy was sitting at one of the far tables with Snipeshooter, Itey, and Itey's girlfriend, Mia. Inky launched Tug in front of Snipeshooter with such force that had Tug not been connected to her arm, she would have likely landed in Snipe's lap.

"I got someone to dance with ya, Snipeshooter."

Snipe rolled his eyes around to the pair of girls and gave a chuckle, extracting the half burnt cigar from between his lips.

"Awe Inky, that ain't no girl. That's just Tug," he retorted, giving a dismissive wave. "'Sides, the last thing I need is to get Skittery mad; I got enough problems, alright?"

Tug chose to ignore the biting comment about her not being included in the 'girl' category.

Rolling her eyes impatiently, she sent a pointed look at Snipe and said, "You ain't gotta worry about Skittery. Let's just dance, Snipe. It's why I came over here."

"Yeah, Snipey," said Dutchy, jumping into the conversation. "Dance with Tug. It ain't gonna kill ya--unless Skittery finds out."

Watching Dutchy's casual demeanor very carefully--leaning back comfortably in his chair like he wasn't planning on getting up any time soon--Tug got the distinct feeling that he was up to something. She narrowed her eyes at the blond newsboy.

"Shut up, Dutch," she said in response to his little dig at Skittery. "How 'bout makin' good yer promise and dancin' with Inky?"

Dutchy's eyes suddenly had a crafty glint to them as he slid them toward Inky, who was looking at him with no less than hopeful desire. Quickly he looked back a Tug; his lips twitched with a wicked grin. "I didn't make "I didn't make no promises. 'Sides, I said I would dance; I didn't say who it would be with."

Horrified, Tug stole a quick peek at Inky, whose adoring expression dropped instantaneously with his heartbreaking declaration. Tug glared dangerously at Dutchy; she had had just about enough of the Manhattan newsboys' antics this evening. What had gotten into them lately? They were being down right hateful toward everyone--particularly the girls. And it needed to end, now.

Taking one more look at her crestfallen comrade, Tug didn't need to further think her decision; she thumped Dutchy soundly on the head. There was a loud gasp issued from Inky.

"Get up and dance, ya lousy bum!" she instructed loudly, jabbing a finger sharply into his shoulder. "What is with you boys tonight, huh? Yer all acting like a bunch of fools!"

"Alright! Alright!" Dutchy said, raising his hands to surrender. Jumping from his chair, he grabbed Inky by the hand and led her quickly through the crowd. Inky looked back over her shoulder with a wide, appreciative grin.

Following Dutchy's lead--not wanting to get slapped--Snipeshooter pulled at Tug's elbow.

"Come on then, Tug," he said, pulling her in the direction that Dutchy had taken Inky.

They found a spot among the other entwined couples. Snipeshooter positioned one hand awkwardly on Tug's waist. Well, it wasn't the worst dance that Tug had ever experienced, but it came real close; the poor kid had no rhythm, he was completely rigid in his movements, and his footwork was clumsy, often nipping the tips of her shoes. It improved slightly as Snipeshooter relaxed, but then this level of comfort went a little too far for Tug's liking.

"Hand!" she snapped, catching him just before he slipped below appropriate level. She had to repeat herself several times as he seemed unable to control himself.

When the song ended, Tug thanked him politely and was relieved when he made a quick departure. With that little favor complete, Tug looked around, hoping to spot Skittery in the crowd. No luck. Instead, Inky came skipping toward her--all smiles. Without speaking a word, Inky attached herself to Tug once again and lead her across the floor, away from the crowd.

"Well?" Tug pressed, a little surprised that Inky had not already launched into a full detailed report.

"Just wait," she replied vaguely. She led Tug through one of the curtained archways, taking them out of the auditorium. Inky settled onto one of the benches that adorned the hallway and ran her hands over her knees, pressing the wrinkles from her skirt before she dove into the story. "Oh, Tug! I owe ya. I really do! It was absolutely perfect."

She paused for a lovestruck sigh, giving Tug the opportunity to ask,

"How come we had to come all the way out here?"

"I didn't want no one to overhear." And by no one she meant Dutchy, because then she started into the play by play of the whole dance, swooning at each minute detail.

Tug listened attentively, nodding and gasping in all the appropriate places, but after a while her mind drifted away from the conversation. Listening to Inky talk about her feelings for Dutchy left Tug feeling a little guilty about her argument with Skittery. Now all she wanted to do was find him, but she didn't even know where to start looking; they needed to talk, to work out the little spat from earlier. She hated the idea of him being angry with her, especially over something so meaningless.

"Ya know what I mean though, don't ya, Tug?"

Blinking back to the conversation, Tug realized she had no idea what Inky was talking about.

"What?"

"It's just, you've probably felt like that with Skittery before, right?"

"Felt like what?" Tug replied, hoping that her inattentiveness wasn't too obvious.

"Like it's only the two of ya in the room, dancin' without a care, ya know?" Inky explained, a dreamy mist to her eyes.

Shaking her head slowly, Tug gave a dark chuckle and said bitterly. "Actually, I wouldn't know that feelin', 'cause Skittery and I ain't never danced together."

"Ya haven't?" Inky replied with just the right amount of outrage and a sincere expression of shock.

Tug shook her head and sighed. "Nope. Not once. Every time I ask, he says no. I just can't understand why."

"Oh-" Inky started to replied, but then they were interrupted by an invasive, unwelcomed addition to their private conversation. Every muscle in Tug's body tightened as she set a hardened gaze on the one person that she absolutely loathed--Angela.

"Well, this is interesting, isn't it?" Angela said, looking between the two girls with a sarcastic delight, her smile brimming with an evil sweetness. It was quite obvious that Angela wasn't just stopping by for a chat--she had an agenda.

Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, Tug replied through clenched teeth, "What?"

"I couldn't help overhearing yer little conversation-"

"Yeah, I'm sure ya couldn't," Tug muttered audibly. Her eyes flickered toward Inky, who looked perplexed by the intrusion.

"-and I find it really odd that Skittery won't dance with you. We used to dance together all the time," she said, emphasizing the last bit with a touch of arrogance. Something suddenly seemed to strike her funny and she giggled. "I was just with him, actually. He saw me at the bar. He is such a great dancer-"

"Like I'm really gonna believe that," Tug growled, rising defensively to her feet, fists balled at her sides.

Angela gave a dismissive shrug. "That's fine. Though I suppose he just needed someone to take his mind off your latest argument."

Tug surveyed Angela with a fiery glare. The little slip of 'latest' did not go unnoticed. How could she know that they had been getting into arguments a lot lately? With her eyes darting anxiously around the hall, Tug tried to keep her voice even as she spoke,

"What do ya mean, our latest argument?"

"You don't know?" Angela gave knowing chuckle, trying to look as innocent as possible, though it was easy to see that charade. "Skittery been over to see me quite a bit recently. He usually comes late at night."

Not trusting herself to speak, Tug continued to glare, using every amount of will-power she had to keep from slapping the girl who stood opposite her. It was most likely that Angela was lying in the attempt of forming a rift between her and Skittery. There was also the possibility that she was being truthful; Tug knew that Angela wouldn't have any reservations about confronting her, because she wanted Skittery back. Either way, Angela had the motivation to cause problems; it was up to Tug to determine what to believe.

Tug wanted desperately to believe that Angela was lying just to make trouble, but at the same time she had some hesitations. She couldn't help but think of Skittery's behavior over the past few weeks. It had been quite a while since they had last sold together--though this was the least of her concerns, because there other more indicative things to corroborate Angela's statement.

It had been more than two weeks since Skittery last visited the apartment after nightfall. She never really questioned it until now; how could she be sure he stayed with the other boys on those nights? Also, he had been acting a little different toward her, not so affectionate--but then again, they had been arguing a lot, usually about petty little things; how did Angela know about that? The seed of doubt had been planted.

"I mean, if he won't even dance with you, doesn't that tell you something?" Angela added maliciously when Tug didn't respond right away. "It seems to me that he is lookin' for someone more exciting, someone more appealing, someone who can give him what he wants--which is why he came to me."

Now, it was quite possible that had Inky stayed in her seat, Tug might have been able to control the uproar of emotions she had been swept up in. But, as it happened, Inky jumped to her feet, ready to defend her friend and intimidate the opposition, which triggered Tug's instinct to fight. And without really thinking about what she was doing--only knowing that she wanted Angela to feel physically what she was feeling emotionally--Tug lunged forward in attack.

Her fist connected solidly with Angela's cheek and the momentum sent them tumbling to the ground. Both girls yelled, rolling around on the floor, locked in the inevitable battle. Although Tug had the upper-hand, Angela brought forth a good effort, clawing wildly at Tug's face. At one point, Angela caught her with a vicious swipe and Tug could feel the blood ooze down her cheek. Not really concerned with what was happening around them--or the crowd that had gathered--Tug just wanted to make sure that this would be the last time Angela would want to mess with her.

It was a bit shocking when a pair of strong hands grabbed Tug under the armpits and pried her off of Angela. As usual, Tug wasn't ready to give up the fight and she struggled against her restraint, shouting remarks at Angela that would have made her mother cringe. Another man was escorting Angela down the corridor, opposite the direction in which Tug was being taken. It wasn't until Angela was completely out of sight that Tug calmed down, though her face was still flushed with fury.

"Alright, out ya go," said the man who had broken up the fight. He gave her a little shove out the door. The people who were standing around the entrance watched with a mild interest and then turned away.

Tug stumbled a little; Inky, who had followed loyally, hurried forward and caught her arm, steadying her. Tug let Inky guide her to the wall where she was able to lean against the cool brick and finally catch her breath.

"So, that was Angela, huh?" Inky asked with a trace of amusement in her voice. Tug nodded. "Ya can't really believe what she said, can ya?"

Tug shrugged indifferently, drawing in deep breaths. The truth was, she didn't know what to believe. "All that matters is I shut her up."

"Mission accomplished, I think." Inky grinned, patting her gingerly on the shoulder. "So, they ain't gonna let ya back in there tonight. Ya want me to go find Skittery?"

"No. Find one of the other boys, it don't matter who. Ask 'em if they'll walk me home, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," Inky replied, disappearing through the doors to find a candidate.

Tug leaned her head against the brick, unsuccessfully trying to keep her mind clear of everything Angela had said to her, but it kept running through her mind. She was still trying to work out the truth when Racetrack came strolling from the theater, his eyebrows flying high when he caught sight of her.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," Tug explained with a shrug, pushing herself from the wall.

"No kidding?"

"I take it ya didn't run into Inky before ya came out here?"

"Inky? No. The last time I seen her she was dancin' with Dutchy," Racetrack replied, looking down the dark street. "I'm headin' over to see Graziella. She ain't feelin' so good tonight, so she stayed home."

"Would ya mind walkin' me home first, Race?"

"What's wrong with Skittery?"

"Nothing. Nevermind. Forget it. I'll just wait for someone-"

Sensing that something had happened between Skittery and Tug, Racetrack quickly agreed. "Yeah, alright, come on. I'll walk ya home. Look, he didn't do that to ya, did he? 'Cause if he did-"

"What? No!" Tug interjected firmly, horrified by the very thought of what Racetrack had suggested. Skittery could be down right unpleasant and moody, but she was certain that he would never lay a hand on her. "He and I had an argument earlier and I ain't seen him since. I was talkin' with Inky when Angela came up to us shootin' her mouth off, so I had to set her straight. That's what happened."

Racetrack chuckled, giving his head a shake. "She's still causin' trouble, huh?"

"Yeah," Tug replied quietly. He had no idea of the trouble she had caused. As they walked, Tug recounted the events that lead up to the fight for him.

"Well, I hope she looks worse than you," he replied lightly when she had finished. He then launched into his own story, sharing with Tug everything he had planned for Graziella on their one year anniversary. Glad for a change in subject, Tug listened happily as Racetrack filled her in. She knew for certain that Graziella would adore every bit of it.

What seemed like no time at all, they had reached her apartment building. After saying goodnight, Tug raced up the three flights of stairs and threw herself through the door as quickly as it would allow. The first thing she did was pull off her boots and wiggle her toes, tired from all the walking. Then she scurried around the kitchen, heating some water for tea; she needed something soothing to ease her mind. After that she dipped a towel in water, which she took into the bathroom so that she could see what damage she had to clean up.

Gently she wiped away the dried blood from her face, cleansing the scratches on her face and neck. It looked more like she had been in a fight with a panther rather than another human being. When everything was washed and dried, Tug settled onto the sofa, curling up in her blankets with a cup of tea. She picked up her book and read in the soft, flickering glow of candle lit on the end table until she fell into an uneasy sleep.

---

Tug sat up quickly; the empty cup clattered to the floor. Her drowsy eyes darted around the dark room, unable to pin point what exactly had startled her from slumber. Tug waited, listening closely to the hundreds of other noises echoing throughout the old tenement building. Her heart lept to throat when something tapped against the window pane and she noticed a figure outlined against the window. She calmed slightly when she recognized the pattern being tapped out; there was only one person it could be.

Now fully alert, she crossed to the window, unhinged the lock, and carefully slid it open.

"What d'ya want?" she grumbled, peering at him through the opening. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes to bring him into focus. He looked all out of sorts, like he had run the whole way from Irving Hall.

"What do I want?" he spluttered, unprepared for the less than warm welcoming. He gawked at her in momentary disbelief before throwing up his arms. "Hell, I dunno, Tug. I might want to know that yer alright, considering you was in a fight. And then ya just disappeared without telling anyone--so I might want to make sure ya made it home. Why didn't you wait for Inky to find me, huh?"

Tug slipped onto the fire escape, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. She narrowed her eyes at Skittery. "I didn't just disappear, alright? Racetrack was goin' to Graziella's so I walked back with him; he just happened to be there at the right moment."

"You couldn't wait for me?" Skittery asked, his anger mixed with hurt.

"I waited for you once tonight, but you didn't come; I wasn't makin' the same mistake twice. If you'd have come after me the first time, none of this would have happened."

"I see. So yer blamin' me for all this? Just because I wouldn't dance with you?" he asked just to clarify. She nodded; he groaned. "So I didn't want to dance. What is the big deal?"

"It's a big deal, Skittery, because you _never _want to dance with me. Why is that? Why won't you dance with me at Medda's?" She took a step toward him, trying to find an explanation in his eyes, but he looked away. Tug felt her throat tighten as tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to choke them back, speaking the next words in a very small, strained voice. "Are you embarrassed by me?"

This had crossed her mind a few times before tonight, but everything that Angela had said seemed to zero in on that particular fear. Her appearance was something that Tug always struggled with, but her hair had grown out a little so she didn't think she looked as much like a boy anymore. In fact, she rather liked the length it was at, particularly because she thought that the one person who mattered liked her just as she was--but perhaps something had changed. She hated to think that, but what else could it be?

"What?" he exclaimed, a little louder than he should have. He seemed genuinely surprised by her accusation.

Tug took a breath, her voice trembling as she elaborated. "I can't think of any other reason why you wouldn't want to dance with me. Is that it? You don't want to be seen with me?" She paused to collect herself before laying out her most recent discovery. "I mean, Angela said you used to dance with her."

Skittery's eyes widened, like a deer caught in the headlights, confirming the truth behind that statement. Tug felt his reaction stab at her heart; if that little piece was true, what else other things held truth? Tears rolled down her cheeks when Tug closed her eyes, trying to remain calm as she continued, her voice cracking with emotion.

"It ain't just the dancin', Skittery. I mean, we haven't sold together in ages. It been so long since you've visited me like this. And when we're together, I don't really feel like we're _together._ I mean, it almost feels like you don't want to be with me anymore. And if that's the case, then please, just tell me now, because I can't go on like this any longer. Go and be with Angela, if that's what you want."

She had said it all--everything that was on her mind. All she could do was wait for him to decide what it was he wanted. There was complete silence between them while Skittery let her words sink in, turning them over in his head. After a few minutes, his feelings were collected, but the words for an explanation still hadn't come to him. He had to do something to show her that this wasn't the end; he pulled her close to him, folding his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. She wasn't quick to accept this gesture, but after a few moments her arms were hugging his middle. It was the reassurance he needed, to know that things would be alright between them--and then the words found him.

"Do you remember the fight we had--I think--two weeks ago; the one where ya walked out of the lodge?" He felt her nod against his chest. "Well, you don't know this, but the fellas gave me a real hard time about it. Goin' on about how I can't keep a girl around for very long, 'cause I always do something to mess it up. Well, it got me thinkin' and I realized they was right; I've never had a girl for very long. I suppose I never thought about it before because I didn't really care about those girls. But with you, Tug, with you I do care; I don't want to mess anything up between us. So I thought that maybe if I backed off a little that I would be less likely to screw things up--but I see that didn't work out either."

"No, it didn't," Tug replied bluntly. She leaned back so that she could see his face. "You should've just talked to me, Skitts. I had no idea what was happening, and then Angela had to turn up and start talkin' like you went back to her."

"And ya believed her?" Skittery groaned, eyes closed.

"Not completely, but I couldn't just ignore what she said, Skittery."

"Well, what did she say?"

"She told me that you used to dance with her; that you'd been seeing her at night 'cause-" Tug's voice got smaller as she quoted the next part. "-yer lookin' for someone more appealin' who can give ya what ya want. I mean, she knew we'd had an argument. How could she know that?"

Skittery shrugged. "I dunno. She was probably watchin' us or something, waiting for a reason to jump in and do exactly what she did. Look, Tug,-" His voice softened and he cupped her face between his hands, lifting her chin so that he had her undivided attention. "-none of this--dancin' or anything over the last couple of weeks--has anything to do with me bein' embarrassed by you, 'cause I ain't, not even a little bit. You should know that Angela can't give me what I want, because I want you." He smiled. "And if ya really want to, the next time we're at Medda's, I'll dance with ya until our feet fall off."

Tug grinned, placing her hands over his. "Promise?"

"Promise," he assured her. A silence settled over them again, but this time there was no tension in the air. Skittery ran this thumbs gently over the marks on her face. "From the fight?"

"Yeah."

"It's my fault," Skittery said, holding her tightly in his arms. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," Tug replied, pressing against him. She wasn't sorry, not for how the night ended up. This was exactly where she wanted to be--with Skittery.

Ever so slowly, he started to sway back and forth, humming a song in her ear, and that night, it felt like they were the only two people in the universe.


	7. Walk in the Park

_Disclaimer: I own a lot of things, but Newsies ain't one of 'em._

_Some Valentine's Day fluffery..._

* * *

Sales had been slow and sporadic. It was on such days when a newsie could hardly stay in one spot for very long. It was the fear of being stuck with unsold newspapers, newspapers they had spent their hard earned wages on. They wanted to make a profit with their sales, not loose the money they had invested. When their typical selling spot, the corner across from Carnegie Hall, showed no signs for improvement, they had to relocate. That was how they came to end the day on the corner where sixty fourth street intersects with fifth avenue.

Skittery stood, propped up against the side of a building, shielding himself from the wintry winds as he waited for Tug to finish up. He watched her work her charm on an old couple passing by, coaxing them to buy her very last newspaper. A crooked smile pulled at one side of his mouth when she was successful. After they exchanged news for money, Tug gave the couple a cheery wave and then skipped across the street to where Skittery was waiting. He barely had time to think, let alone speak, before she flung her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth.

"What was that for?" he said stupidly.

With a coy smirk, Tug turned away from him. "I dunno. It must be something in the air," she confessed with a little shrug as they walked down the street, side by side. Shifting her eyes in his direction, she asked, "Can we walk through the park for a change?"

"It'll take longer to get back if we go that way."

"That's kinda the point, Skittery," Tug replied, the corners of her mouth turning up in a sly kind of grin. "I was thinkin' that if we took our time gettin' back to the lodge, most of the fellas will have left for the evening. What d'ya say?"

He liked the way she had thought it through, though he'd rather it involved some place warmer. Skittery chuckled. "Sure."

The snow crunched beneath their feet as Skittery and Tug walked, hand in hand, along the beaten paths that wound through the park. Even in the middle of winter, Central Park was a favored attraction for residents and visitors alike. There were plenty of activities going on all around. Children, bundled up against the biting winds, were playing: building forts for snowball fights, sledding on the hills, constructing snowmen, ice skating on the frozen pond, and just having a grand old time. Older folks sat on the snowy benches or walked along the frosted paths, enjoying in the wintry landscape that surrounded them.

Occasionally, Tug would point out something of interest as they walked along, but for the most part they had been walking in a comfortable silence, simply glad to be in one another's company. In the same moment that Skittery stole a look at Tug, her eyes enlarged slightly at the sight of something in the distance and a delighted smile pulled at her lips. His eyes followed her gaze as she tugged on her arm. He knew exactly what would happen next.

"Oh, Skitts, look!" she said excitedly, gesturing toward some deserted playground equipment. Her eyes were dancing with a childlike playfulness as she look up at him hopefully, already pulling him off the path toward the contraption. "Let's swing."

Skittery groaned, hesitant with her suggestion. "Awe, Tug, we been outside all day; I'm freezin'."

"Oh, come on. It ain't gonna kill ya," she replied with a grin, letting go of his hand and skipping off toward the swings. She brushed off the snow that had settled and plopped down on the seat, smiling happily as she started pumping the swing back and forth. Her twinkling eyes keeping a steady gaze on Skittery as he trudged toward her.

Leaning against the post, which anchored the swing set, Skittery watched her with a slight amusement as she tilted her head back and laughed with joy, closing her eyes while the cool air whipped against her face. She looked completely content, almost euphoric, swinging past him through the air.

"Don't just stand there, Skitts. Grab a swing," she called out, kicking her feet out to send her even higher. She laughed again as the drop back toward earth tickled her belly. "Have a little fun!"

Skittery shook his head with a smile. "I don't think so."

"Oh, Skittery." Tug sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes, and then gave a chuckle, swatting at him as she went by.

After a few more swings, Tug made her dismount by leaping into the air on the upswing. The snow covered ground was not an ideal landing pad for the jump; it was slipperier than she had anticipated. Her feet slid out from under her and she did a rather ungraceful barrel roll and landed with a thud.

From Skittery's point of view the whole thing was rather comical and his gave a snort of laughter. However, when Tug didn't jump up right away, the laughter quickly turned to concern. Still slumped over in the snow, she wasn't moving much, only shaking a bit. The noises coming from the crumpled heap were unidentifiable. It was difficult to tell if she was laughing or crying. Skittery bolted to her side, standing over her body. His worry quickly faded and he smiled down at her, chuckling.

Sensing his presence, she rolled over onto her back, laughing hysterically at herself. With the laughter subsiding, she gazed up at him smiling back at her. She couldn't help but think what that must have looked like from Skittery's vantage point; the image sent her into another fit of giggles. She took some deep breaths to calm herself down and stuck her arms straight up in the air, implying his assistance was needed to help her stand. He complied, pulling her up from the cold ground.

"Very graceful," he said lightly, helping her brush the snow from her coat.

"Shut up," she snipped, glaring at him playfully and giving him a little shove. And then without any warning, still feeling very giddy, she trotted away from him, turning after a few strides to face him.

"Can't we go home yet?" Skittery whined, dropping his arms against his sides.

Tug smiled broadly, resting her hands on her hips. "Ya gotta catch me first."

He paused for a moment, like he was making his decision, and then quickly pelted after her before she had a chance to get too far ahead. She gave a strangled yell and whisked off across the open lawn, glancing back every so often to see the space between them shortening. They both laughed as Skittery closed in, snatching at her elbows, but catching only air in his attempts. He tried once more and was successful in catching the back of her coat.

Tug made to wriggle from his grasp, but their momentum brought them tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap. She yelled out as she hit the ground sharply, Skittery landing heavily against her. They both laid there for a moment, wheezing with laughter in between heaving gasps for oxygen.

"Ya alright?" Skittery asked, turning his head toward her, when he had finally sucked down enough air.

"My boot!" Tug exclaimed, lifting her stocking foot into the air to show him. She propped herself up on her elbows to investigate its whereabouts. She pointed a short distance away. "Oh, there it is. It flew off when ya tackled me."

Skittery chuckled as he moved to retrieve it. "Here ya go," he said, as he lifted her foot to fit the boot back on. He felt her eyes on him the whole time he laced it back up for her. Setting her foot back on the ground when he had finished, he crawled over her so that his face was hovering directly above hers. He tipped her hat up slightly and pushed the hair from her eyes. She smiled in just a way that it made him forget all about wanting to hurry back to the lodge. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, her arms snaking around his neck, guiding him closer. He pulled away and kissed her cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Pulling her to her feet, he reached into his pocket and produced a small box. "It ain't much."

"Skitt," she breathed, opening the little parcel. She pecked him on the cheek. "Ya really didn't have to."

"Well, yer my girl, ya know. I wanted to," he replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, but chocolate, it's so expensive."

"That's why there ain't much," he said with a grin.

Tug smiled. Closing the box, she tucked it into her own pocket. "It's perfect, really. Now, what d'ya say we go back to the lodge, sit by the fire, and get warm."

"Eh, I ain't in a rush," he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked toward home. "I's actually thinkin' we should come to the park more often. It was fun."

They walked side by side once again, wrapped in each others arms, along one of Central Parks many pathways. It wasn't long before something else caught Tug's eye, much to Skittery's chagrin.

"Oh, Skitts, look! We could go ice skatin'..."

* * *

_A/N: I don't know if chocolate was really expensive back then, but I figured for a kid on the streets it probably was. I assumed it was an expensive thing. -shrug-_

_Happy Valentine's Day! Lots of love to all you Newsies fans out there!_


	8. Sunday Afternoon

_A/N: Yay, I finally got around to writing a little something! It's not much, but its just to get me back in the swing of Newsies. There will be more to come, I promise. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short insert! _

* * *

"I'm definitely faster than the both of ya!" Tug argued, a confident grin sprawled across her face. She was standing opposite a pair of newsboys, both wearing identical skeptical expressions and chuckling at her claim.

"Yeah, well...maybe if you was wearing pants ya might, but ya ain't gonna out run us in that dress," Blink said with a snort, eyeing up her Sunday best. Mush nodded his agreement.

Tug rolled her eyes. "Look, I'll beat the both of ya -- even in a dress."

"Ya think so, huh? Well, let's settle this right now. What d'ya say?" Mush asked, challenging her with an amused smile. Blink seconded the idea of a friendly competition.

"I say I'm in," she replied shortly and then turned away from them, facing another newsgirl by the name of Inky, and readied herself for the footrace.

"Do ya really think you can beat 'em?" Inky asked in a hushed voice, looking a little skeptical herself -- her eyes darting toward the two boys.

Pushing up her sleeves, Tug chuckled and shrugged. "We'll find out, huh?" Taking in a deep breath, she turned back to Mush and Blink. "Alright fellas, let's get this over with."

"Down to that tree and back, alright?" Blink suggested, pointed toward the large maple tree that sat about thirty feet from where they all stood. "Who's gonna be the judge?"

"I will," Inky said, stepping forward to volunteer.

Blink, Mush and Tug all lined up along an invisible starting line designated by Inky. Floating through the warm March breeze was the unmistakeable sound of Racetrack's voice asking for bets on the outcome of the race. Pennies were dug from the depths of the other newsies pockets to place on the runner they felt was most likely to win.

Making ever effort to block out the commotion, Tug focused on the thick tree trunk towards which she was running. She crouched slightly, flexing her fingers at her side, preparing to spring forward at Inky's signal.

"Alright," Inky announced after Racetrack had all the bets carefully secured. "On yer mark --"

Tug inhaled deeply. Mush rolled his shoulders. Blink licked his lips.

"Get set."

Blink leaned foward, resting his hands just above his knees. Mush's hand raised into a readied running motion. Tug balled her hands into a fist and rose to the balls of her feet.

"Go!" Inky bellowed and the three runners tore across the grassy terrain of Central Park at full speed; the small gathering of spectators cheered nearby.

The wind whipped against Tug's face as she pounded over the ground, slightly behind the two boys as they neared the tree. Making the turn around the giant maple, Tug willed herself to run faster; she couldn't let them win.

It seemed to work, she was slowly gaining on them -- and with a burst of triumph she passed by the two sprinting figures; the finish line within her reach. She was nearly there...just another couple of strides...but suddenly she saw that one of them had a last minute burst of speed and flew past her, crossing the finish line first.

Tug skidded to a stop once she had finished and slumped over in defeat, catching her breath. Mush was proudly celebrating his triumph with the crowd that had greeted him, likely the ones that had placed their money on his victory. Blink came to a stop beside her, sucking in deep gulps of air to regain his breath as well. She turned her head to look at him, still breathing heavily, and grinned.

"Well I might not've won, but at least I beat one of ya -- in my dress and all. Just ya wait until I'm back in my trousers. I want a rematch!"

* * *

_A/N: You know I love reviews: they feed my motivation! -wink-_

_We're carryin' the banner tough and tall!_


	9. Under the Street Light

**+Under the Street Light+**

Though she could not exactly put her finger on it, Tug was vaguely aware that something in their relationship had changed. It was in the way he looked at her and the way he acted around her -- most noticeably when it was just the two of them. She just was not certain of what it was she was seeing that was different between them, but perhaps that was because did not want to accept the sudden change in their relationship; she did not want to face the possibilities that could erupt from this mysterious turn of events. It would simply add complications to her life, complications she did not want. So she was vaguely aware of the change, but chose not to address it, in the hopes that it would run its course and fade away.

And then it happened...

It was a particularly frosty March afternoon -- a long, tiresome day of selling at its end. Tug waited, leaning casually against a lamp post with her fingers tucked into her armpits for extra warmth. It did not matter that they were covered by the thin fabric of her gloves, her fingers still felt like little icicles from their lengthy exposure to the bitter winds. She looked up in time to see his familiar figure weaving through the crowd toward her.

There was nothing unusual about the way he approached her; he gave the typical declaration of having just sold his last newspaper when he got within earshot and a quick rundown of the day's more notable events. Prying herself away from support of the post, Tug rubbed her hands together, trying to put some life back into her frozen limbs before making the chilly walk back to Duane Street.

She did not give it much thought when his hands closed around hers; they were surprisingly warm. They moved quickly against hers creating the necessary friction, warming them more effectively than she had been able to; feeling was slowly creeping back into her fingers.

Tug laughed lightly at his gesture, appreciative of his help. But as her eyes moved upward toward his, the laughter slowly died; there it was again, that look -- the feeling that something between them was different. And it was in that moment, with his hands clasped around hers and their gazes meeting, that she realized exactly what it was that had changed.

Locked onto hers, his deep brown eyes seemed to hold all the warmth she needed to drive away the icy winds that swirled around them, nipping at their rosy cheeks. He was looking at her in a that she had never experienced before -- like he was seeing her for the first time after a long absence; his soul seemed to shine through those little windows, pouring forth the emotion he was unable to put into words. It was enough for her breath to catch in her throat and heart to begin humming wildly in anticipation for what would follow...

She could see it hidden in the depths of his gaze. She could feel it in the way the motions of his hands slowed against hers. Tug knew exactly where this was headed, and yet she never tried to stop him. Instead she stood there, completely numbed by the sudden understanding of his recent behavior, and watched as his face drew ever closer to her own. Her eyes closed and she held her breath as his lips touched softly against hers.

Her body tingled at the touch, a reaction she never could have anticipated. It left her slightly bewildered, and momentarily clouded her judgement, providing him with the opportunity to find catch her waist and pull her closer, deepening his kiss. As the initial cloud of shock subsided and Tug realized exactly what she was doing, her mind screamed for her to stop; she should not have let this happen. Suddenly riddled with an overwhelming sense of guilt, she complied with her conscience, pushing against his arms and quickly putting space between them.

With wide eyes she drew in a soft gasp and stared at him, giving her head a small shake of disbelief. His hands immediately fell away as he took a step back, his gaze shifting downward to the snow dusted pavement. Already pink from the chill, his cheeks flushed crimson as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Unable to find suitable words for the situation, neither of them spoke. After a few awkward moments of avoiding one anothers' gaze, he broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, rolling his eyes back to the level of hers. He spoke the words, but there was something unapologetic about the expression on his face, which was also etched with a hint of guilt and embarrassment. He held her gaze for a second and then turned away.

She could not let him just walk away, so she caught the cuff of his sleeve before he had even taken two steps.

"Mush," she said in a quiet voice, her eyebrows pinched together with confusion. He had always been her friend, one of her very best friends, ever since the first time they started selling newspapers together, back when she had been disguised as a boy. With so many questions rocketing around in her mind, Tug was having trouble forming a coherent thought. So she chose the most direct and the most prominent word that was at the beginning of every one of her queries, "Why?"

He shrugged, averting his eyes momentarily while he gathered a response. When his thoughts were collected, he found her gaze. The emotion behind his eyes told her more than his words; he was being sincere; his feelings toward her had changed.

"I think ya know why," he said quietly, and then drew in a deep breath of confidence before continuing. "I really like ya, Tug and I can't help how I feel; I've felt this way for a while now, but I didn't mean for ya to find out like this -- and for that I'm sorry."

His confession was a lot for her to take in. Deep down she had always had an inkling that he felt this way, but she never let it surface because of her relationship with Skittery.

There was no denying that she and Mush had a special kind of relationship -- Tug loved him in a way that was different than any of the other boys, including Skittery; it was the kind of love that she would have felt for a brother, if she had had one.

"Mush -- this is really hard -- because I care for ya so much, really I do -- but ya gotta know that I can't return yer feelings."

He nodded solemnly, not really expecting anything more. "I know."

"I love Skittery." She paused thoughtfully for a moment after the words escaped her. _Love? _The feelings had always been there, but they had yet to say the words to one another; it was slightly shocking to hear herself say them out loud, particularly under the circumstances.

A small smile crept over her lips as the meaning behind those words sank in; _she loved him._ Tug glanced back at Mush with a rush of guilt suddenly sweeping over her as the reality of what had just occurred between them sank in; she had just let that kiss happen. There was also a twinge of guilt associated with the abrupt proclamation of her feelings for Skittery, but she knew it was better than letting Mush think otherwise.

"I'm so sorry, Mush," she said quietly, taking hold of his hand.

Mush smiled softly, giving her hand a squeeze. "I know. I'm sorry too. Still friends?"

He spit in his hand and held it out to her.

"Best friends," she replied with a serious nod, eyeing his outstretched hand with disgust; instead of accepting the spit-shake, she gave him a quick hug. "I don't know what I'd do without ya."

Grinning the pair of them started off toward the lodging house; both content with the close friendship they had been able to form through those long days of selling newspapers on the streets. What had happened between them was now in the past; neither of them wanted to exhaust the issue. The memory of that kiss was left to be carried away by the icy winds, frozen in time and forgotten.

However, unbeknown to the two friends, that kiss would not be forgotten by the pair of wide and disbelieving eyes that had been a witness from the corner opposite them.

* * *

_A/N: So, seriously, what's going through your mind right now? You must share it with me! :) CTB!_


	10. What the Brown Eyes Saw

**+What the Brown Eyes Saw+**

Skittery poked his head into the common room and peered around at the mess of boys cluttering up the small space. He made a face when he didn't see who he was looking for and turned to leave, but he had been spotted.

"What's happen', Skittery?" asked Specs, looking over the top of his book.

"Nothing," he mumbled, spinning back around. "Just lookin' for Tumbler. Any of you guys seen him?"

Most of the boys shook their heads, but Boots offered what he knew.

"Yeah, I think he's upstairs."

"Thanks," Skittery replied. He hurried back down the hallway and darted up the stairs.

Entering the bunk room, he immediately crossed to Tumbler's bunk, but found it was empty. Skittery scratched the back of his head, wondering where the kid might have gone. His concern must have been evident in his expression because Jake looked over from his bed and said,

"You lookin' for Tumbler, Skitts?" Skittery nodded. "He's been sittin' out on the fire escape since he got back."

This time without a reply, Skittery walked over to the window. He could just make out the dark outline of the small boy curled up in the corner with his knees tucked under his chin. Pulling himself through the frame, Skittery joined him on the landing of the rickety fire escape.

"Tumbler!" Skittery said with a sigh, relieved to see the boy safe. "Where ya been, huh? I been lookin' everywhere for ya. What happened? You were supposed to meet me at Tibby's."

The little newsie looked up at him with big doleful brown eyes, shrugged, and then shifted his gaze back out across the alley at the neighboring building and heaved a small sigh. Skittery frowned and studied his little friend for a moment, something was definitely wrong; usually this situation was reversed and Tumbler was the one trying to cheer him up. Fishing in his pocket, Skittery pulled out a cigarette and then sat down against the building so that he was facing the little boy.

He struck a match on the iron surface, lit his cigarette, and then sent the match plummeting to the earth below, watching it extinguish before bouncing off the ground. Taking a long drag, Skittery continued to watch him, concerned with the uncharacteristic quiet that surrounded them; usually Tumbler had a story to tell, which then turned into ten stories. It was very unsettling.

"What's the matter, kid?" Skittery asked, nudging him gently in the shoulder. "Somebody give ya a hard time today?"

Tumbler shook his head, still looking distantly down the alley.

"Rotten luck sellin'?"

He shook his head again.

"You thinkin' about yer folks?"

Tumbler shook his head a third time. Skittery sighed and took another drag on his cigarette. He was starting to get annoyed.

"It ain't like ya to be so quiet, Tumbler. Ya gotta tell me what's botherin' ya, so maybe I can help."

The kid shook his head one more time, bringing his eyes to rest on the older newsboy; from the light that escaped the bunk room, Skittery could see the glistening tears.

"I can't. Yer gonna be so mad..."

Skittery's eyebrows rose. He wondered what Tumbler could have possibly done to be that upset. "Why would I be mad, Tumbler?"

The little newsie sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve before replying, "It's just...I walked down by Riverside -- I know ya said I shouldn't go over there, but I did and..." His voice faded and he looked down at his knees guiltily.

"Ah, geez, kid. Is that it? It ain't nothin' to be upset about," Skittery replied, shrugging it off. It wasn't until Tumbler looked back up, over his knees, that Skittery knew he hadn't heard the worst of it. He leaned closer to the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is Tumbler? Tell me."

Tumbler drew in a few shaky breaths. "Don't get mad, alright? Promise ya won't get mad?"

Frowning, Skittery agreed as best he could. "Sure, kid."

The little newsie swallowed nervously, not really wanting to tell his best friend what he had to tell him. "I'se over there -- by Riverside -- and I seen -- Mush and Tug..."

Tumbler's voice faded away. Skittery tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder and held his breath; the look in Tumbler's eyes told Skittery that he was not going to like what followed. In a hushed voice, barely above a whisper, Tumbler revealed what he had witnessed on that street corner by Riverside.

"They was -- kissin'."

Numbed by those words, Skittery didn't react; he couldn't react. All he could do was watch the tears fall down Tumbler's face. After what seemed like an eternity, he licked his dry lips uncertainly and stammered, "Wh-What?"

Tumbler nodded miserably. "I seen 'em from across the street."

No longer numb, the impact of what he had been told was unbearable. It felt like someone had ripped his heart from his chest, lit it on fire, and then drove a stake into the open wound. He clutched at his chest and felt his heart beating rapidly beneath his shirt. With wide eyes, Skittery grabbed the boy by both arms and looked at him square in the face.

"Yer lyin'," he said angrily. "I ain't true. Ya didn't see 'em right. It coulda been anybody. Yer lyin..."

But he knew deep down in the dark crevices of his broken heart that the kid was not lying--he would never play such a cruel joke--Tumbler was one of the few people who knew how much Skittery actually cared for Tug, which accounted for his peculiar behavior. Skittery stopped and simply stared for a moment; silently pleading with the small boy to take back his story, but he knew that was impossible. He could feel the truth radiating from every fiber in Tumbler's being, because he was certain of what he had seen and somehow, he just knew it had been wrong.

"It can't be true..." Skittery breathed shakily.

He let go of Tumbler and slumped back against the brick wall. He buried his face in his hands and was surprised to find his face was wet. Had he been crying? Through the whirl of emotions, he hadn't even noticed. Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, he tried to keep the tears barricaded and the stabbing images from flashing through his mind. None of it made sense; none of it seemed right.

"Skittery," Tumbler said quietly, inching toward his friend. "Are ya mad?"

Mad. Hurt. Confused. Sad. Heartbroken. Disappointed. Shocked. He couldn't pick just one. He just felt empty, but it wasn't something he could explain to an eight year old. Skittery looked over at Tumbler, who was watching him tentatively with his big sorrowful eyes.

"I ain't mad at you, kid."

"Are ya mad at Tug?"

Skittery didn't answer; he couldn't answer. They sat in silence for a while, looking across the alley at the neighboring building. It was comforting to be near such a dark place; he felt like he was looking into his own soul, black now because his heart had been ripped out. When the shadows were no longer a comfort, he left without saying a word to anybody, hoping to find a way to ease the pain -- and he knew just where to look.

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_A/N: Please let me know what you thought by reviewing. I appreciate any and all constructive feedback! Thanks!_

_Keep Carryin' the Banner!_


	11. Heart of the Fire

**+Heart of the Fire+**

It all had to be a terrible dream; when she opened her eyes, the world would be realigned and everything that had happened would just be a distant memory...

_Tug sat on one end of the sofa, knees tucked under her chin, staring into the heart of the fire, which crackled merrily and flooded the small room with a warm orange glow, keeping the darkness that had enveloped the rest of the drafty old building at bay. Aside from the popping embers and the whistle of the wind over the chimney, the Newsboys Lodging House was uncharacteristically quiet. It was a strange phenomenon that happened only in the wee hours of the morning, when those who called the place home were tucked away in their beds, dreaming about headlines and girls. In a few hours time they would be roused, to begin their long day of work._

_For Tug, the silence was eerie and unsettling; she was more accustomed to the chaos that associated itself with a group of young boys. As it was such a late hour, they all were sound asleep in their bunks two floors above her, re-energizing. She, however, was wide awake, staring mindlessly at the dancing flames; her mind was too active with worry for sleep. Never before had she been at the Lodging House this late, but she had good reason; she was waiting - waiting for Skittery, who was long overdue._

_Earlier that day he had asked her to meet him at the Lodge when they were finished selling, but he never showed up. Some of the other boys said that he had returned for a little while and then left again, but none of them seemed to know where he had gone or why. He left without saying a word to anyone; this really worried Tug, because he had never done this to her before - he always met up with her, particularly when it was his idea. It also concerned her that not one of the other boys could tell her anything; usually - as there were so many of them - somebody knew something._

_All of this made it too easy for Tug to think the worst._

_She was in the middle of stifling a yawn when a sharp noise punctured the silence, making her jump slightly. Straining her ears, she listened carefully as the back door fell shut. It was followed by heavy footsteps trudging down the hall. The footsteps stopped just outside the door. Whirling around, Tug saw the shadowed figure of Skittery lurking just outside the doorway. Relieved, she vaulted from the sofa and hurried toward him, but stopped short when he stepped into the room; his face was twisted with anger - anger that seemed directed straight toward her._

_He said nothing, shaking his head with that same dark expression as he inched further into the room._

_"Where have you been?" Tug demanded, choosing to ignore the odd behavior._

_His head continued to shake while he growled, "How could you?"_

_"Wh-What?" she stammered, eyes wide -- startled by the tone of his voice. She watched as he stumbled forward, catching himself on the back of the sofa. His movement pushed the thick, pungent stench of alcohol through the air. Tug crinkled her nose, disgusted by the strong odor and slightly alarmed by the discovery -- though it helped to explain his behavior a bit. Frowning, she slowly asked, "Skittery -- have you been drinkin'?"_

_Skittery rolled his eyes and grunted, "Don't try to change the subject!"_

_"What subject?" Tug replied incredulously, eyebrows raised. She took a small step toward him, cautiously -- uncertain of how to handle him in this state. "Look, why don't ya just sleep this off. We can talk later, alright? I just wanted to--"_

_"Oh, don't act like ya don't know what I'm talkin' about..."_

_"I don't know what yer talkin' about!"_

_"I'm talkin' about you and Mush," he barked, the words rolled off his tongue with great distaste. __He glared accusingly, though his eyes seemed unable to focus on her completely._

_Tug stared at him, caught completely off guard. He could not possibly know about what had happened between them earlier that day, could he? A chill ran up her spine at the thought, but she quickly down-played his insinuation._

_"Yeah? What about me and Mush?" she replied as nonchalantly as she could manage, swallowing the nerves that had lept into her throat._

_The color in Skittery's cheeks deepened and spread quickly to his ears as Tug's flat ambiguous response fueled his anger. With his jaw set, he spoke through clenched teeth._

_"I know about you two." He scowled at the gut-wrenching thought. "And don't even try to deny it, 'cause Tumbler saw the two of ya kissin' earlier today."_

_Tug blanched; her skin suddenly felt ice cold, prickling with goose-pimples. A hand flew up to cover her surprise and she was beginning to feel a little queasy. They had been seen? The situation had just turned from bad to ugly -- and from the look on Skittery's face, Tug could tell it was only going to get worse._

_"He - He did?" she whispered through her fingers, horrified. All other words of explanation that had been forming died when she saw heartbreak overtake the fury in his eyes. Her heart panged with guilt as she watched him slump against the back of the sofa._

_"Gawd - It's really true then," he said, choking on the words. His wide, unfocused eyes slide to the floor as he ran his fingers through his disheveled brown locks._

_"Skittery, I am so sorry..." she offered in a small voice, but he didn't seem to be listening._

_"How long has this been going on? How long, Tug?"_

_She shook her head firmly. "It's not like that--"_

_He gave a pained laugh and shook his head, still looking distant. "I should've known. You'se two always goin' off, sellin' together -- I should've known..."_

_"Skittery," she said anxiously, raising her voice, determined to get his attention. He finally looked up, but didn't quite meet her eye. "It ain't like that -- I swear."_

_"Really?" he said with a snort of disbelief. Tug could see the anger building in his eyes again. "If it ain't like that then why were ya kissin' him, huh?" _

_"It wasn't--"_

_"Yer my girl -- you ain't supposed to be kissin' no one but me!"_

_"It happened so fast. It didn't mean nothin', Skittery -- honest. It didn't mean nothin'."_

_"You still kissed him!" he growled, pushing himself away from the sofa's support and wobbling slightly. He shook his head sadly. "How can I trust you anymore?"_

_It was like a slap to the face; Tug stood there paralyzed by his words. She could feel the tears prickle in her eyes as she stared at him -- devastated. Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest, aching with every beat. The kiss, at the time, seemed like such an insignificant little mishap, something that could be forgiven and forgotten, but instead it was bringing the world down around her. Tug drew in a shaky breath. It had to be the alcohol talking; he was blowing this way out of proportion, wasn't he?_

_"You don't mean that," she whispered, the words hardly finding their way out. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he offered no suggestion that things would be alright, not even the slightest glance to give her hope that they would move past this argument. He simply stared at floor with his arms folded over his chest. "Skittery -- please --it was a terrible mistake. I'm sorry. It meant nothing. I am so sorry -- Skittery..."_

_His eyes, wet with tears, rolled upward to look at her. He shook his head slowly._

_"Sorry ain't gonna fix it -- not this time. I just don't think I can trust you anymore..."_

_He turned and walked from the room without another word, leaving Tug to stare mindlessly at the spot where he had been standing. She stood there, frozen with shock and heartbreak, until someone appeared at her side -- it was Jack. For whatever reason, he guided her safely back home, though his kind actions and words were hardly noticed as her entire being was clouded by what had just happened._

Tug opened her eyes. She was still in the room, curled up under the bed sheet, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. The pillow that cradled her head felt damp from the many tears that had fallen over the last few hours as she tried to purge the horrible feelings that had consumed her: the shock, the devastation, and above all, the guilt.

She battled with herself as the scene continued to replay in her mind. What could she have done differently? There had to have been something she could have said, something she could have done to make a difference. It didn't matter how she analyzed it, because there was nothing she could do about it now. It was over.

Somehow she would have to move past the overwhelming emotion and figure out how to set things right. But, with the memory of Skittery's obvious heartbreak so close at hand, the idea seemed nearly impossible.

And she knew there was only herself to blame.

* * *

_A/N: So, I would really appreciate some feedback on this chapter. I'm not sure if I captured it properly. I think aside from Tug's emotion, I hope it kind of showed how much Skittery loved Tug, which is why he is taking it so hard. -shrug- Leave your thoughts, let me know._


	12. Girls and Boys

_Disclaimer: I take no credit for any newsboys in this story, or the newsgirl by the name of Tag Carolucci - AdrenalineRush16 was kind enough to lend her to me._

* * *

+Girls and Boys+

"Claire Connolly, we know yer in there!" Inky Porter beat her fist repeatedly into the door of number three hundred five, pausing occasionally to listen for signs of life on the other side, but all stayed quiet within the apartment. She was, however, a determined newsgirl and would not give up so easily. "Open up the door!"

"You can't stay in there forever, Tug!" bellowed a second girl, Tag Carolucci, having to make herself heard over Inky's thunderous knocking. "We ain't leavin' til ya talk to us!"

Inky continued her assault on the door and both girls shouted at the top of their voices until they heard the shuffle of feet on the other side. As the lock was disengaged with a hearty click, the two newsgirls fell silent. Slowly the door scraped open and a wiry girl with short dark hair peered out at them, looking thoroughly annoyed by the disturbance -- she had the ruffled look of someone who recently had been crying in excess; she was pink in the face and her eyes were puffy

"Oh for goodness sake," she hissed indignantly. "Stop yer shoutin' and get in here!" She stepped aside so that the two girls could enter. When they were in, Tug snapped the door shut and rounded on them. "Yer lucky no one sent for the bulls with that rocket yer makin'."

"Well, we didn't have much of a choice, did we?" Inky said, arms folded over her chest. "You wouldn't answer when we knocked politely."

"Drastic measures had to be taken," Tag added. Neither of the two girls cracked a smile; their business was serious.

"I suppose," Tug replied plainly. "What're ya doin' here anyway?"

"We came to see how yer doin', of course," Inky replied, as if the reason for her nearly beating down the door had been obvious. "We heard 'bout you and Skittery."

"We'd've come sooner, but we only just heard 'bout it last night," Tag said, rolling her eyes. "I don't think they've told us if we hadn't asked where ya were. I swear them boys ain't got no sense sometimes."

Tug clutched at her stomach as it had done a somersault at the mention of Skittery. This reaction didn't go unnoticed, because Inky and Tag exchanged a meaningful look with one another. Tag hurried forward, taking Tug gingerly by the arm and guiding her to the sofa so that she could sit. Inky busied herself in the kitchen, having offered to make them some tea.

"Tell us what happened, Tug," Tag said in a soothing voice, draping a comforting arm over Tug's shoulder. Inky joined them on the sofa while she waited for the water to boil.

For the past three days, Tug had confined herself to the apartment, wallowing the misery of her broken heart. The emotion built up inside her was crushing, almost suffocating, because the memory of their argument, and the events that lead up to the argument, plagued her every thought -- she had no idea how to deal with any of it. It all happened so fast and so unexpectedly. Her mother worked hard to comfort her, but she couldn't be there for Tug during the day, as she had to work. Tug was grateful for the company of Inky and Tag, and heartened by their genuine concern. And so, with her hands wringing nervously in her lap, Tug drew in a deep breath, mustering every ounce of energy she had left and relived how her relationship with Skittery had come to an end.

"I tried to tell him it was all a mistake -- that it didn't mean nothing, but he wouldn't listen," Tug choked in conclusion, wiping away the tears that had slid silently down her cheeks. She glanced anxiously between the two girls to gage their reaction, hoping that they would understand how she felt. "I wasn't lookin' to hurt Skittery; I care about him too much. It's just all happened so fast."

Glaring over her tea cup, Inky muttered, "I knew ya couldn't've been seein' Mush behind Skittery's back..."

Tug blanched; her eyes widened in alarm. "Is that what everybody thinks?"

Startled by Tug's reaction, Inky lifted her eyes from the contents of her cup and knew at once she had said too much; Tag was shooting dark looks at her over Tug, who looked completely mortified. Setting her cup down on the end table, Inky added hastily, "Well, I don't think any of them boys actually know what happened -- they was just guessin', because, from what I heard, Skittery and Mush had a huge fight the other night -- and neither of 'em have talked to anybody since then."

"Yeah, Blink said it was pretty bad, worse than the last argument they had over you."

"What?" Inky spluttered, looking very confused. "They fought over you before?"

Tug felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment as both girls stared at her with an expectant curiosity and she knew she would have to enlighten them with the details; neither of them had been around last summer when Mush wanted to prove to Tug that Skittery liked her, so he let it slip that he, Mush, was seeing Tug, even though he wasn't, so Skittery punched Mush in the face because he thought Mush was seeing Tug, when really he wasn't. It was all very complicated and Tug did her best to fill them in on the story.

"I don't think they actually fought this time," Inky said, screwing up her face as she tried to remember the details of the more recent conflict. "Dutchy said Skittery looked like he wanted to murder Mush and he said it took seven of 'em to keep him from doin' just that. All they could do was shout at each other from across the room, because the others held 'em apart."

"Yeah," Tag agreed. "Blink told me that Mush kept yellin' that it was all his fault, but as Skittery was lookin' to rip Mush limb from limb, he reckons none of it sank in."

Tug buried her face into her hands and groaned, "What've I done! It must be miserable at the lodging house."

Both girls patted her gingerly.

"I think they've only gone at it one time, but I suppose they've just been keepin' their distance since," Inky explained, glancing at Tag for reassurance. "They said Skittery hasn't been gettin' back to the lodge 'til real late at night, so none of the boys have really talked to him."

"So, what're ya gonna do now?" Tag asked bluntly, changing the subject. "Are you gonna try to talk to Skittery again?"

Tug looked up through her fingers and sighed. "I don't know what to do. I can't imagine he'd want to talk with me." A lump rose in her throat as the thought sank in. "I mean, you didn't see the look on his face. He was so upset..."

"He was also drunk," Inky added curtly, pulling a face that suggested disgust at the behavior, "which was poor judgement on his part and didn't exactly help anything."

"I'm just not ready to talk to him yet. I don't even know if I want to go back to sellin' -- not after all this. I just don't think I can handle seein' any of the fellas right now, let alone Skittery or Mush. I just don't have it in me to face any of 'em."

"Well..." Tag said carefully, looking sideways at Tug. "I was thinkin' maybe you should come sell with us -- ya know, for Hearst."

"Yeah," Inky agreed, smiling thoughtfully.

"I mean, you'd be able to avoid any one ya wanted, since ya know all their sellin' spots."

"I suppose," Tug replied, considering the possibility. This was something she hadn't thought of, selling for another newspaper. And as Tag pointed out, she didn't have to worry about running into any newsies she didn't want to because they all sold for Pulitzer and she knew all of their routes pretty well; she could just avoid those places. It seemed like a fair idea and worth a try. "It wouldn't hurt to give it a try."

Tag and Inky exchanged looks of triumph.

"Tomorrow then?" Inky said excitedly, finally cracking a smile.

"Yeah, alright," Tug replied with a nod. A thought fluttered into her head; she quirked an eyebrow. "You two ain't gonna tell Dutchy and Blink are ya? At least for the time bein'."

"No," Tag said hurriedly, shaking her head. "If you don't want us to, we won't."

"I'd rather you didn't. I know that word would get around, and I don't want Skittery or Mush to come lookin' for me -- like I said I ain't ready to talk to either of them, but I am ready to get out of this apartment," Tug said with a slight smile.

"How 'bout we meet up at 47th and Broadway?" Inky suggested.

Tug half groaned, half laughed. "I forgot how far it was."

"And if you ain't there by six-thirty, yer neighbors will get another chance to send for them bulls," Inky added matter-of-factly and everyone laughed.

-----

"Skittery!" called Blink, hurrying toward a tall, lanky boy, who was lying under one of the many giant oak trees in Central Park.

Specs followed at a distance; he was a little more cautious than Blink when it came to sneaking up on Skittery. He watched as Blink threw himself down on the grass next to Skittery, making another attempt for his attention.

"Hey! Skittery!"

"Go away, Blink," Skittery mumbled, his voice muffled by his hat, which was shielding his face from the sun overhead.

"Awe, come on, Skitts. We don't see much of ya these days," Blink replied, settling himself in against the trunk of the tree as Specs finally caught up.

"I said, beat it."

"I told ya it would be a lost cause, Blink. Skittery don't wanna hear what we got to say," Specs said, trying a more clever way of gaining Skittery's attention. He shot a warning look at Blink, who had opened his mouth, not doubt in order to reveal the reason for this ambush.

Blink shut his mouth, watching some sign of interest, but Skittery just continued to lay there with his head resting on a pile of newspapers and his hands folded over his chest. Unable to stand the wait any longer, because Specs' attempt hadn't made a difference, Blink tried something else.

"It's been over two weeks now, Skittery. I don't know why you still ain't talkin' to none of us."

"'Cause it ain't none of yer business," Skittery replied shortly. "Now, will ya leave me be?"

"Fine," Blink said sourly. "I just thought you'd like to know that Tag's been talkin' with Tug."

Skittery reached up, lifted his hat from his face, and squinted at Blink. "And why would ya think I even care?"

"I dunno," Blink said with shrug, glancing at Specs. "Aren't ya curious as to what she's been up to all this time?"

Pushing himself upright, Skittery glared dangerously at Blink. "I don't care what she's doin' or who she's doin' it with. Now, if ya don't mind, I still got some papes to sell."

He stood up, shoved his hat on his head, scooped up his newspapers, and walked away with Blink shouting after him,

"Just so ya know, she's been sellin' for Hearst, and she's been miserable."

Skittery paused mid-step, waiting for Blink to elaborate, but there was only silence. He shifted the newspapers in his hands as if they were the reason he had stopped walking and continued on his way, not looking back at his two friends. He didn't want to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing that they had got to him; just those few little words shot like tiny arrows through his heart, leaving splinters behind as a reminder that he had lost her.

Did they think he hadn't been miserable too?

"Go talk to her, Skitts," called Specs, his sharp eye not easily deceived.

He wouldn't go talk to her. He couldn't go talk to her. Not only was he still angry at what she had done, but he was also ashamed of himself for reacting so stupidly to what Tumbler had told him. In was out of anger and heartache that he sought comfort in alcohol, but all those feelings were still there when the effects wore off, leaving him in a deeper hole, because what he remembered about their argument was choppy and almost dreamlike, and none of it helped him feel better about their break up.

As he trudged along the path toward the busy street of Fifth Avenue, he half hoped that Blink would come after him and ramble on a bit more. For once, in their many years of friendship, Kid Blink actually decided to respect his desire to be left alone, but this was one time when Skittery didn't really want to be alone.

* * *

_A/N: So, I just had to say that this chapter was a real pain to write. I had all the ideas, but I couldn't get them down on paper (er, screen). Anyway, what I think I'm trying to get at, is that I would be extremely grateful if you would leave a review for me so that I may know your thoughts._

_Happy 110th Anniversary of the Newsboys Strike of 1899!!_


	13. Lost a Bet

_A/N: Well, perhaps it was because AdrenalineRush updated her story that I felt so compelled to finish this chapter and post. :) Hopefully this is the first of more writing to come. Thanks, Addie!_

* * *

+Lost a Bet+

He had lost a bet – a stupid bet. And he had lost the bet to Kid Blink. He should have known by now that it was foolish to make a wager against Racetrack – that kid would do anything to earn a buck. But there was a fine line between earning a dollar and looking like a complete fool, and this time Skittery thought they had him. It was something very few of them would ever be caught dead doing, so he figured Racetrack would never accept. How very wrong he had been – if Racetrack had had any decency it would have been Kid Blink walking in the pouring rain to buy a new pack of cigarettes, not him.

Skittery kicked irritably at the lamp post as he passed. At least the store wasn't too far, although in this kind of weather any distance seemed a stretch. He was soaked straight through every layer of clothing he was wearing and even into his shoes. It was a miserable condition to be in, but then again, misery had been his company for the past few weeks.

Wrenching open the door, Skittery stepped inside the little convenience store. All he had to do now was grab a pack of cigarettes, pay, and then he could get back to the lodging house – not that getting back had much incentive; it was loud, crowded, and stunk like a dirty sock, but at least it was dry and relatively warm.

Skittery weaved his way to the back of the store to the display of cigarette boxes. Just as he was plucking a pack from the shelf, a couple of voices caught his attention. One of them was all too familiar and it made his blood run cold; he had no desire to face the owner. He knew full well who those voices belonged to without having to look, but he wasn't able to help himself; still clutching the carton of cigarettes, Skittery slowly turned his head and glanced over his shoulder. Two girls, one with curly jet-black hair and the other with short dark brown locks, stood with their backs to him, contemplating the shelves that held the cosmetics.

Edging further toward the back of the store, Skittery crouched down behind a tall display of candy.

"Do we really have to do this, Inky?" Tug asked, a hand perched defiantly on her hip.

Inky groaned, likely with an eye roll. "Of course we do. You said ya wanted to look nice tomorrow night, didn't ya? Well, yer gonna need some of these."

"Fine, if that's what it takes. Let's make it quick though, I've got to meet Rook in a bit, alright?"

Rook? Skittery thought the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. It had to be a newsy from one of the smaller territories. He shrunk back against the wall, following the lead of his stomach which seemed to shrivel at the realization that Tug was seeing someone else. If he could have he would have made for the door right then, but that would have run the risk of being seen; that was the last thing he wanted.

So he waited for them to leave. Crouched behind the candy display, the wait felt like an eternity. At one point Inky stood opposite him perusing the selection of chocolates; Skittery held his breath, but she didn't linger long enough to discover his hiding place. Peering around the display he watched the two girls leave the store with their purchases. Relieved that he hadn't been seen, Skittery hurried to the cashier to pay for the cigarettes he had come for. Pocketing the carton, he slumped back out on to the streets.

As he journeyed back to the lodging house, his mind reeled with images of Tug with this other boy – who he was, where he was from, what he looked like, and how he treated her. Each thought made him both angry and sick to his stomach. He did not want to think about Tug with another boy, but the images would not leave his head – all the way to the lodge.

Slamming through the front door, Skittery stalked to the back room and chucked the pack of cigarettes on the card table between Blink and Racetrack.

"What took ya so long?" Racetrack asked, shifting a deck of cards through his fingers.

Skittery scowled. "You two ever heard of a newsy called Rook?"

Blink looked up at him and nodded. "Yeah, he's from down in Battery Park – their leader."

"Wonderful," Skittery grumbled sarcastically and turned to leave.

"Why?" Blink called after him.

"Forget it," Skittery replied without looking back.

Racetrack and Blink shared a look; both knew better than to meddle when Skittery was in a mood. Blink would just pester Skittery about it later after he had some time to calm down.


	14. Back Where He Belongs

_A/N: Thank you all for waiting so patiently. I won't delay this any longer, except to say that I do not own any of the characters from Newsies; the character of Tag belongs to AdrenalineRush16 and was graciously loned to me once again so that Tug can have friends._

_This chapter is rated T. Just to be safe._

* * *

Chapter 14  
+Back Where He Belongs+

Each hour that had gone by since overhearing the conversation at the corner store seemed excruciatingly long. When Skittery tried to push the memory from his mind, it would inadvertently work its way back into his thoughts. As much as he hated to admit it he loathed the idea of Tug being with someone else, to the point that a small pile of cigarette butts had piled up beside him. Gazing down at the small mound, Skittery scowled and batted at the pile, watching the little cylinders scatter.

He had been rolling the situation over in his mind for hours, concluding that there wasn't much that could be done. Tug had moved on. He would have to do the same. Sending a smoldering look down at the streets below, Skittery pulled the last tube from the pack and stuck it between his lips. Just as a small flame popped into existence on the tip of his match, someone vaulted over the ledge and joined him on the roof. He felt a sigh ripple through his body as Blink strode closer and plunked down next to him. Skittery's lips tightened around his cigarette as he waited for the burst of energy that typically accompanied his friend, but there was only silence for some time.

"So a bunch of the fellas are goin' to Medda's tonight. D'ya wanna come?" Blink asked, looking hopeful.

Skittery shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

Blink frowned. "Well, I just thought I'd ask. I mean, you've been sittin' up here for hours. I thought ya might wanna do somethin'."

He shook his head again. This time it had a touch of sadness to it.

Blink sat on his next question for a minute, deliberating, but he had to know. "Does this got something to do with Rook?"

Skittery turned his face and looked at Blink, considering his friend who look genuinely concerned, and then sighed heavily. "Yeah. It does."

With eyebrows raised in slight surprise by this confession, Blink pressed on. "So why'd ya ask about him last night, Skitts?"

Skittery took a long drag from his cigarette and then sourly crushed it against the ground before answering – the words tasting like bile in his mouth. "Tug's seein' him."

Blink's eyes widened.

"Tug and Inky were at the store last night. I overheard 'em talkin'." He crushed the empty cigarette pack in his hand and tossed it aside. "I guess I waited too long to get her back."

"I'm sorry, Skittery," Blink replied solemnly. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither really knowing what to say to the other.

"Ya know what?" Skittery said suddenly. Blink looked over at him and quirked a brow. "I think a night at Medda's sounds alright."

Blink nodded a few times, thinking. "Well, Tag and Inky are comin' along, so it's possible Tug will be too."

Skittery felt his heart twinge at the thought. He gave a small smile and patted Blink on the back. "It's a small island. We're bound to run into one another sometime. I think it's time I got used to the idea."

Blink sat there, stunned, as Skittery stood to leave. This sudden change of heart seemed unlike the Skittery he knew, but maybe a night out was just what the newsies needed.

* * *

It was a bit unsettling to think that a place like Irving Hall could feel so foreign, especially after having spent countless weekends within its walls over the past eight months. Typically the old vaudeville theater felt like an extension of home, but not tonight. An odd feeling swirled around in the pit of Tug's stomach, making her hyper-aware of what her new situation entailed. Sitting among a group of people that she hardly knew, in a place so familiar, was going to take some getting used to – particularly when her old life was sitting on the other side of the room. A part of her yearned to be among them, but she had to make a new life for herself, start over. There were too many painful memories attached to the Manhattan newsies; for Tug it was best just to move on.

The weight of a hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. She blinked a few times and smiled at the cluster of newsies, hailing mostly from the Bronx and Battery Park. The hand on her shoulder belonged to the leader of the Battery Park newsboys, Rook Schiller. He was tall and lean with thick dark hair and blue eyes. His handsome face was leaning in toward hers and he whispered,

"How's about a dance?"

Tug grinned. "I'd love to."

He led her out among the sea of dancers. Once they found a good spot on the floor, he pulled her tightly against him. Tug loved to dance, and she loved that Rook loved to dance too. They stayed out on the floor for a couple of songs, moving to the beat of the music. Just as she was beginning to tire from the activity, Inky Porter pushed her way through the crowd, looking wild-eyed.

"D'ya mind if I borrow Tug for just a sec?" she asked, looking up at Rook but pulling at Tug's arm without waiting for a reply.

Rook shrugged. "I'll be back at the table."

Inky pulled Tug across the room to where Tag Carolucci was sitting. Tag gestured for Tug to sit down and Inky plopped down into another chair. It felt good to be among friends again, Tug thought as she looked from one girl to the next.

"I still don't like the look of him, Tug," Tag said, running her finger around the edge of her glass.

"You keep sayin' that, Tag. I just don't see it," Inky interjected with a shrug.

"That's because you're so focused on the fact that he's good looking," Tag shot back. She glanced over at Tug. "I'm just sayin', ya need to be careful. We don't know much about it him. He ain't been in Battery Park for long, but Zero seemed to think he'd be a good fit."

"Look, he's been nothin' but sweet to me," Tug began to say; Tag gave her a look. "But, I ain't gonna do nothing stupid."

Tag seemed to loosen up after that, because she leaned forward with a smile and asked, "So, how're things goin' over there?"

"It's okay. It's strange to be here with new friends when old friends are around too. I don't know how you two manage jumping between territories all the time?"

"It's simple. We don't mix work and play," Ink quipped with a grin, which was followed quickly by a grunt and a grimace; Tag had obviously kicked her under the table. "Sorry, Tug, I didn't mean nothing by it. By the way, your make-up looks fantastic, if I do say so myself."

"Thanks, Ink." Tug smiled. "So, how're things with you two?"

"Same old. It's still a pain tryin' to get Dutchy out on the dance floor." Inky made a face. "Hey, how 'bout you go over and threaten him into it, for old time's sake?"

The three girls laughed.

"If he don't shape up you come and find me, alright?" Tug smiled fondly at the memory.

"I thought ya said ya'd only be a minute?" a voice interrupted. It was Rook.

Tag and Inky exchanged a look. Tug smiled at him.

"I haven't been gone that long, have I?"

"Long enough," Rook said with a crooked smile and he offered her his arm. "I'm stealin' her back, goils."

Tug stood and took his arm. "I'll see ya girls later."

"Alright, see ya Tug."

* * *

Skittery sat between Blink and Specs, swishing the ice cubes around in his empty glass. He looked up as Tag and Inky joined the table, sitting beside their respective beaus. Tag placed a hand on Blink's shoulder and leaned in, whispering in his ear. When she had finished, she sat back in her chair and glared at Skittery. Perplexed by her expression, Skittery frowned and stared back at her. When she didn't let up, his frustration started to escalate.

"Why ya lookin' at me like that, Tag?"

"Because Tug shouldn't be sittin' at the Battery Park table with that cockroach, Rook; she should be here with us," Tag said, bitterly.

"That ain't my fault," Skittery retorted, raising his voice.

Tag snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, unconvinced.

Gritting his teeth, Skittery snatched up his glass and stalked away from the table. His emotional state was already heightened by the likelihood of bumping into Tug over the course of the night, so an attack by one of her friend's about their broken relationship hit him a little harder than it should. It certainly wasn't his fault that Tug had moved on to some seedy character from one of the lesser territories. He had no influence on the decisions in her life now that he wasn't a part of it.

Skittery slid onto the corner bar stool and slammed his empty glass on the counter. When the bartender worked his way over, he ordered another. He drank it a little more quickly than he would have liked to, but in the moment he really did not care. Just as he received another glass, Tag moved in beside him.

"What d'ya want?" Skittery growled over the rim of his glass.

"I wanna apologize for earlier. I shouldn't've gotten angry with you because I'm worried about Tug," Tag explained. "I was outta line."

"Yeah. It's alright," Skittery mumbled, half expecting to see Tug and her new boyfriend appear through the crowd.

"No, actually it's not all right. I really don't like it, Skittery. Something about him just makes my skin crawl. Something ain't right."

Skittery snorted. "Well, there ain't nothing I can do about it."

"You really don't want her back?" Tag said, frowning.

Considering her question, Skittery saw the sadness creeping into her eyes. His expression softened and he sighed. "It looks like I've lost my opportunity anyway."

"Yeah, well, it's only lost if you don't do anything about it."

"Considered it lost," he replied bitterly.

"Suit yourself," Tag replied, sliding from her stool. "But if I were you I wouldn't give up so easily." She gave him one last apologetic smile and walked away.

Skittery chuckled quietly to himself and gulped down the last of his drink. He definitely wasn't giving up – not just yet anyway – but it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. He didn't want any of them meddling in his business, which was bound to happen if they found out how much he really wanted to get Tug back. He wanted to wait for the right opportunity, one that was going to yield the best results. Maybe it would happen tonight, and maybe it wouldn't. He would wait.

* * *

"I don't think ya need another drink, Rook," Tug suggested with smile.

"Look, just go get another round for me and the boys," Rook repeated, leaning toward her and grinning toothily. He placed a hand precariously on her thigh.

Tug's smile faltered a little and she glanced around at the other faces that were watching her. "Okay."

She stood from the table and pushed her way out to where one of the bars was set up. Working her way to the counter, she glanced around for the location of the bartender. He was surveying up drinks on the opposite side. Her heart suddenly skipped a beat and she felt heat rise to skin; her eyes darting around embarrassedly. Sitting across the bar at the counter opposite her was Skittery, pondering what appeared to be an empty glass. Tug directed her gaze to the glossy counter-top to avoid staring at him and silently prayed that the bartender came her way quickly. Slowly her eyes rolled upward and back onto her old flame, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What can I get ya, little lady?" the bartender asked loudly, leaning on the counter top and eye-balling Tug.

Startled, Tug was jostled from her fixation. Embarrassed, she fumbled through the order. When he moved aside to fulfill the order, Tug found herself looking across at Skittery again. This time her gaze met his somber brown eyes. She felt her heart leap and struggled to keep her expression neutral as he gave a small half-smile.

Tug started once more as a hand found her hip and Rook's voice was in her ear. "What's takin' so long?"

"Nearly finished," she said, paying the bartender as he pushed the glasses towards her. "You can help me carry 'em."

Just before leaving to follow Rook, Tug stole another glance at Skittery, whose expression had grown very dark as he watched her interactions; then she scurried away, wanting to put as much space between them as possible.

"Hey, Rook," Tug said quietly once the drinks had been passed around. "D'ya wanna get outta here? I think I'd like to go home."

"It's still early, Tug," Rook replied. "And I gotta finish my drink."

"Please," Tug said, urging him with her eyes. "I'm tired."

"Fine," was his exasperated reply as he downed the drink in one go. Wobbling as he got to his feet, Rook said goodnight to his newsies and led Tug from the theater.

The cool night breeze felt wonderful against Tug's flushed face. With Rook's heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders, the two started off toward home. They walked in silence for a while and then made small talk. A gust of wind picked up and a shiver rippled up Tug's spine.

After a block or two, once they had passed under a streetlight, Rook grabbed her arm and pulled her into the darkened alley. Tug giggled.

"What're we doin'?" she asked playfully as he grabbed her face and planted a kiss on her lips, muffling her laughter. She pushed him away a bit, smiling. "I really should be getting home."

"Awe, come on, Tug. Have a little fun," he replied, pulling her against him. He pressed his lips against hers a little more forcefully this time. She could taste the alcohol on his breath.

Tug tried to push away again, but his hold was too tight. She wriggled in his grasp, trying to get him to let go. He slowly pushed her against the building. Tug felt her heart begin to race as she realized that this was getting out of her control. She pushed against his shoulders and he broke away from her.

"Stop!" she said loudly and firmly, trying to pry his hands off of her. Her voice echoed down narrow passage way.

"But we're having fun," he replied, his face an inch from hers; eyes hardly able to focus. He grabbed a hold of one of her struggling wrists and pinned it against the building. She could feel the brick digging into her skin as he pushed against her. Rook brought his mouth to hers with such force that her head bounced against the wall. She closed her eyes as little white specks popped into existence.

Panic rose in her chest as she struggled against the Battery Park newsy, whose free hand was roaming to exclusive locations on her body. Drawing from the depths of her being and centering herself into a mindset to fight back, Tug thrust her knee into closest area of his body. He crumpled slightly and grunted, but the maneuver had no real effect – it only made him angrier. Tug made as much noise as she could with the precious seconds she had.

"Get off me," she screamed, clawing at any piece of him she could get her hands at. "Stop! Please!"

Rook knocked her against the wall again; she could feel the brick scraping against her back and elbows as she struggled against him. She closed her eyes in horrified resignation at what was happening – this feeling of helplessness was something she was not entirely used to, but try as she might she was clearly overpowered.

What felt like hours to Tug was in reality only a couple of minutes after she had screamed, the pressure of his body was suddenly gone. She opened her eyes just in time to see Rook slammed up against the opposite wall of the alley.

"She told ya to stop!" Skittery growled in his face, pinning the surprised newsboy by his collar.

Rook fought back, swiping at him with wild punches. "Get the hell off me; this ain't none of yer business!"

"Actually, it is," Skittery replied, shaking him angrily. "I ain't about to let a no good bum like you hurt one of our girls."

Sinking back against the wall, Tug watched as the two boys wrestled one another against the wall, looking to gain the upper hand in the fight that was about to break out. Soon the swings got bigger and the hits landed. Tug gasped as Skittery took a rather nasty hit and retaliated with a blow of his own.

"Stop it!" Tug yelled, watching the fisticuffs with her hands over her face. She had no idea how to stop them, but certainly didn't want to get in the middle of it. Neither boy was easing up or looking to end it with the other still standing.

Turning at the sound of footsteps, Tug saw three figures running towards them. Specs slowed down as he neared, but Bumlets and Pie Eater ran passed to break up the fight. Specs took Tug by the arm, attempting to lead her away from the scene, but Tug shook him off. She wasn't leaving – not now.

It was a scramble, but Bumlets and Pie Eater – with the help of Specs after resigning to the fact that Tug wasn't going to leave – managed to separate the two entangled newsboys. It was a struggle to keep the infuriated boys apart. Rook was once again pinned against the wall, but this time by Pie Eater and Specs; Specs glasses were askew. Bumlets was pulling a reluctant Skittery, who was now yelling obscenities at the Battery Park leader, toward the street. Tug stood in the middle of the mess, uncertain of what she should do. The reality of what had happened finally hit her and her limbs were shaking. She even thought she might throw up. She turned away from where the boys were holding Rook – she couldn't look at him.

Bumlets reappeared, brushing by her to assist in the disposal of Rook. She could hear the Manhattan newsboys threatening him if he ever stepped foot in their territory again. Specs was suddenly at her side; this time she let him guide her out of the alley.

"They're gonna make sure he gets back to Battery Park. You don't got to worry about him anymore, Tug," Specs reassured her.

She nodded, afraid to speak. The nausea had not dissipated. Her knees still felt weak. How could she have let that happen? It could have been a lot worse had it not been for Skittery.

Choking back the bile still wanting to erupt in her throat, Tug was about to ask Specs about Skittery when they found him on the stoop of an apartment building a few doors down from the alley. He pushed himself to stand as they neared. Specs eyed him over his glasses.

"It's alright, Specs," he said gruffly. "I'll take it from here. You make sure the boys get that bastard back where he belongs."

Specs glanced at Tug, who hadn't said a word, shrugged, and turned to head in the opposite direction, leaving the two alone.

Tug stood there, motionless, once again completely uncertain of what to do – uncertain of what Skittery was going to do. A part of her wanted to give him a hug and feel the safety in his embrace, but there was the reservation that came with the fact that they hadn't spoken to one another in over a month. She held her breath and tried to keep her legs beneath her as she waited for him to make the first move.

"Come on," he said quietly after a minute of awkward silence. "Let's get ya home."

Without much conversation they began the walk toward the Connolly's apartment. It was a slow march across the city as Tug was still shaken from the events and Skittery was hurting some from the brawl. After a few blocks of silent deliberation, the tension was broken.

"You gonna be alright?" Skittery asked, having cast a sideways glance at her and noticing her distance gaze in the lamp light. The tension and fury that had penetrated his entire being was finally loosening; he would deal later with the venom of hatred that coursed through his veins every time he thought of what might have happened had he not heard her scream. His only concern now was getting her home safely.

"I think so," Tug replied, her voice cracking a little. She could feel the tears prickling in the backs of her eyes. She stopped suddenly, her hands wringing nervously in front of her. Her eyes rolled up to meet his and she unsuccessfully tried to blink back the tears. "Thank you, Skittery."

Skittery flinched like he was going to reach out to her and thought better of it. He looked at her for a moment, then threw caution into the wind and pulled her into his arms. "I'm just glad yer safe."

"You didn't have to do that, ya know?" Tug said stupidly through her tears, beyond grateful that he actually had. She rested her head against his chest and squeezed him tightly. It was the first time all night that she felt completely comfortable, and yet she still couldn't let herself get too far ahead of things.

"There was no way I was gonna let him hurt you, Tug. You've got to know that."

Tug smiled softly and pulled away from him. "I know. It's just nothing's felt right since – well, ya know."

Skittery nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I do." He drew in a deep breath; it was as good a time as any so he had to take advantage of the opportunity. "Look, Tug, I still care about ya. I hate the idea of you with someone else."

"Does this mean yer finally ready to talk about what happen with Mush?" Tug asked flatly, her mind still subduing her emotions.

"Yeah, I think I am." Skittery nodded firmly.

Tug took in a deep breath. Her knees still hadn't stopped shaking, but reason behind their unsteadiness had changed. She gave him a small smile. "Let's get home where we can talk more. I think we've both had enough of the streets for one night."

Skittery agreed. It was time for them to sort out this mess and move on with their lives, both knowing that they should be together.

* * *

_A review would be stellar! Only one more chapter left in this collection after this - you have been warned. :)_


	15. Sunrise

_A/N: Okay friends, in order to make up for such a long break between chapters. I am posting this one now, because, well, it's done and I cannot keep it from you any longer. I hope you enjoy the last installment in this collection of one-shots._

* * *

Chapter 15  
+Sunrise+

"We sat side by side in the morning light and looked out at the future together." – Brian Andres

The Newsboys Lodging House was filled to capacity and plus some. Every single bed at Number Nine Duane Street was occupied by at least one newsboy, but some of the boys had to double up because Kloppman hated to turn anyone away. This, however, was just a small sacrifice in order to enjoy the comforts unavailable on the streets. Although two to a bed was not by any means comfortable. It made for a rather tight sleeping arrangement where one false move could result in a sharp meeting with the floor below. Also, in this situation one could count themselves lucky if they didn't wake up the next morning to find the other person's foot in their face.

Soft snores echoed through the dark room; this was occasionally intermingled with the incomprehensible babble of someone talking in their sleep, which was often followed by the squeaking of a bed frame as someone else turned over. These were all sufficient indicators that everyone had finally fallen asleep. Complying with this ritual, Skittery shifted into a more comfortable position, which gave his bunk a good reason to teeter dangerously. With the movement, his arm fell unconsciously over the person lying beside him.

Tug turned her head slightly at his touch, checking his level of consciousness. Upon determining that he was still in dreamland, she pulled her arms free, having been trapped by his sudden movement. Resting them over top of his, she picked at a hole in his sleeve. Her mind had been reeling between thoughts like an old movie projector, keeping any chance of slumber at bay. There were too many things to think about: memories from the past, life in the present, and what might lie ahead in the future. With all this it was impossible for her to find enough peace of mind to allow for sleep to take over. And sleep was something her body was in desperate need of, having been in short supply over the last few days.

Something that had not been difficult to come by over the last few days was tears. The lack of sleep likely accounted for her heightened emotional state, but the amount of energy it took to shed those tears only added to her exhaustion. It was a vicious cycle. Eventually though, the tears were not enough to satisfy this emptiness in her heart left by the passing of her mother.

It had only been a few days since her death and it was hard to believe she was really gone. Apart from the last month, Mrs. Connolly had been doing well, although she had never regained her full strength after the battle with the illness last summer. Once she had felt well enough, she had picked up life right where she had left it. She went back to work at a small fabric shop, tended to the household duties, and even saw fit to mother some of her daughter's friends. Then a little over a month ago, the illness returned. This time it wouldn't get better – only worse as the weeks passed. Scraping together what little money she could, Tug brought in a doctor, but by then there wasn't much he could do. It was with a heavy heart that Tug accepted the inevitable, though any acceptance in this kind of situation did not ease the pain or shock when that final day arrived.

That last month had been difficult for Tug, watching her mother slowly fade from life, but she found comfort in knowing that she wasn't going to be left completely alone in the world. Skittery and the other newsboys made certain Tug knew that. They stopped by the apartment more frequently than usual, which was not only out of love for Tug, but for Mrs. Connolly as well. She had become as good as a mother to many of them, particularly those closest to Tug. She gave them as much motherly affection as she did her own daughter, knowing that most of them came from broken homes or had never known their own mothers. They were all quite affected by this sad turn of events.

It was difficult for Tug to imagine what she would have done without the support of her newsy family during this difficult transition in her life. Sometimes when she thought about it, she couldn't help but wonder if some divine power had been at work in her life, preparing her for this very moment – providing her with friends to see her through. Life as a newsy had given her much more than a pocket full of change; it had given her a purpose in the world – a place where she belonged.

It had also given her Skittery.

If it weren't for him, she would have never made it through the last week. He stayed by her side as things steadily grew worse – holding and comforting her when she needed it the most. In those days after her mother's passing, the apartment felt so empty and Skittery stayed with her, but it didn't feel like the place it once had been. There were too many memories attached to the space, memories that suffocated her when she was there. Soon Tug found it impossible to be there for any length of time, which was how she came to be sharing Skittery's bunk at the lodging house.

At first Kloppman was unwilling to let her stay since the housing was for boys only. He tried to point out that there was a place for girls if she really needed somewhere to go, but most of the boys argued on her behalf. Besides, who, apart from them, would have to know that a girl was staying at a boys' home? She could still look the part of a boy if she wanted to. In the end, Kloppman caved under the pressure and allowed her to stay – at least for a little while.

Tug inhaled a deep, centering breath in an attempt to quiet her mind. She repeated this meditative technique a few times, but still found her mind to be ill at ease. After a few more restless minutes, she knew she couldn't lie there any longer. Gently she lifted Skittery's arm and rested it between them, knowing that it would take a lot more than that to wake the sleeping newsboy.

Using as much care as humanly possible to descend the bunk noiselessly, Tug slid herself to the floor, landing with a soft thud on the hardwood. She stood motionless for a moment, watching and listening to the orchestra of sounds being issued from the other bunks. Silently she prayed that her movement had not roused any of them from sleep; she really didn't want the company right now.

Satisfied that she had not been heard, Tug tiptoed to the open window across the room. She stretched a leg over the sill and ducked through the frame onto the landing of the fire escape. The steel framework felt cool beneath her bare feet as she climbed the stairs to the next level and then scaled the rusty, old ladder that would take her to the roof – a place she had become quite familiar with over the past few days.

Staying at the lodging house was interesting, because she couldn't decide if it was the best or worst place to be during a time like this. She liked being so near to her friends; there was always someone around to talk to when she needed it. But it was at times when she had the company that she wanted to be left alone; however, when she was alone she often wanted to be with other people. It was another one of those vicious cycles that plagued her days. She had found time to both be with her friends and to be alone in the days following her mother's death, and she soon found that she liked the open isolation that the roof provided. It was a relatively quiet place – aside from any commotion on the streets – where she could collect her thoughts.

When she pulled herself over the edge of the building it was like entering a completely different world. It provided a whole new perspective on the city that she loved. It was difficult to see in the moonlight, but a sea of rooftops was visible as far as the eye could see; only showing pockets of human life among them in the form of laundry lines and furniture. In the distance those rooftops collided with the dark canvas that was the night sky. Sprinkled across the vastness of space, stars peeked out through the clouds. It was even more beautiful on a clear night.

A low wall ran across the rooftop, separating the lodge from the adjoining building. Over the past couple of days, Tug had found a friend in that particular partition. It had become her favorite place to be when she needed some time to herself. Not deviating from her routine, Tug crossed to her spot and stretched out on it, looking up at the cloudy night sky.

Breathing deeply, Tug inhaled the cool, crisp air. She let it fill her lungs, refreshing her thoughts and cleansing her mind of all its worries. Something about the vast openness of the heavens seemed to be able to quiet the tumult of her mind better than the crowded, stuffy room below. She felt relatively at peace. This spot had become her gateway to heaven, where she knew her mother and father were together waiting for the time when they would be reunited with their daughter. They would be keeping watch over her as she braved the world without them, but certainly not on her own.

Tug laid there for a long time, reflecting on her life: past, present, and future. She let the breeze carry each and every worry away and let the good things pour over her with the moonlight.

It was the sound of metal clanging against the brick as someone shimmied up the rickety ladder, which pulled her back to earth. The noise punctuated the serenity of her world, but she knew that she had been discovered missing. Without looking at the intruder, she knew that Skittery would be at her side shortly. His noisy ascent had been purposeful; a while back, having suffered the consequences, he had made a promise to her that he would never again sneak up on her. The promise had yet to be broken.

She turned her head just in time to see Skittery vault on to the roof. Looking back up at the sky, light just beginning to creep at the eastern edges, Tug smiled fondly. He always seemed to know exactly the right moment to infiltrate her sessions of reflection – although he never interrupted them. Without saying a single thing, Skittery sat down against the wall, in front of where she was lying. There was no need for words, no questions, and no explanations. He knew exactly why she had stolen away in the middle of night. Tug loved that about him; he rarely ever asked the obvious questions. He would simply sit with her until she was ready to talk – no matter how long it took. He just wanted her to know that he was there.

After a while, Tug rolled over onto her stomach and draped an arm over his shoulder. She picked at one of the buttons on his shirt and spoke quietly of the things on her mind.

"What's gonna happen to us?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"I mean, we ain't gonna be newsies forever – we're nearly too old as it is," she explained. "So, I's just wonderin' what's gonna happen."

Tug felt Skittery's chest expand as he drew in a deep, contemplative breath before speaking.

"I dunno," he replied with a small shrug. "I ain't never given much thought to what I'd do after this. I guess I just figured I'd know when the time came – but that was when I only had myself to worry about."

"And now ya got me?" Tug smiled distantly.

Skittery grinned. "Yeah, now I got you."

"We'll have to find other work, I suppose."

He sighed, thinking of the laboring life ahead of him. "I'll probably end up in some factory."

"No, not a factory," Tug said quickly, thinking of how she lost her father in one of their accidents. "Anything but a factory."

"Yeah, alright, no factories," he agreed, patting her hand.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Tug smiled softly, satisfied. "Where we gonna live?"

"You wanna get outta Manhattan?"

Leaving the city would be a great adventure, but it wasn't quite an adventure she was ready to heave just yet. She needed some stability in her life before she could move to completely unfamiliar territory. Besides, they had family here. Manhattan was home.

"No. Do you?"

Skittery shook his head. "Not really."

Sliding from the partition, Tug snuggled herself against him.

"So we live somewhere around here," he concluded, wrapping his arms comfortingly around her. Every lingering, desolate feeling inside of her melted instantly at his touch.

"Fifth Avenue would be nice," she said with a yawn.

"A big fancy house across from the park," he added with a smile.

Closing her eyes, Tug grinned. "I love you."

Skittery smiled, resting his head on top of hers. "I love you too."

The first rays of light found the Manhattan rooftops, blanketing the two of them in a warm orange glow. It was the start of a new day and soon the newsies would awake to shouts from Kloppman. They would grumble and complain, but emerge onto the streets soon after, looking to be the first in line at the distribution center.

The steady rise and fall of Tug's chest signaled that she had finally fallen asleep. Skittery didn't mind missing out on the morning paper for moments like this. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, lingering on their dream of a home on Fifth Avenue.

* * *

_I would really appreciate feedback if you've taken the time to read this. Like I said this is the end, but it may not be the end for Skittery and Tug. I have some ideas floating around to make this a trilogy. :)_

_Thank you to everyone who followed this story and sent in such wonderful reviews. It really means a lot! *Laelyn_


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